


Toy Soldier

by suluismyspirit



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Angst, Eating Disorders, Eventual Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More tags later, PTSD, Past Abuse, Recovery, Slow Burn, calebcentric, lack of agency, misuderstandings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 105
Words: 252,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23192356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suluismyspirit/pseuds/suluismyspirit
Summary: Except for a select few, mages within the empire are treated like little more than a commodity for the politicians. Few of the common folk ever encounter a mage, as their skills are solely employed by the crown and rogues are ruthlessly hunted and killed. With peace being brokered with their Xhorhasian enemies, the Empire decides to gift their prized Archmage to the Mighty Nine as a sign of their commitment to making the peace last.ORCaleb needs all the hugs and Trent will get what’s coming to him.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, Yeza Brenatto/Nott
Comments: 2722
Kudos: 2598
Collections: Noice





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrannyBoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrannyBoo/gifts).



> This work is inspired by GrannyBoo's fic Sworn Fealty.
> 
> If I knew how to link it, I would.

Fjord had many surnames: Stone, Tusktooth, Swiftblade, Sea demon, and a few more colorful unflattering ones. He was born in the Dwendalian Empire, his first memories being a slightly run down but functional orphanage. Life was hard there, but not unduly cruel. However, he was not allowed to stay long as the Empire began a crusade against any they deemed heathenistic enough not to be welcome in their Empire.

Being half orc in blood, and showing that side visibly in his appearance, Fjord was forced to flee the orphanage and the empire when he was ten years of age. He found refuge on the seas, the captain of the ship "Hellwinds" allowing him to join the crew. For the next ten years he had been a sailor. During that time, the crusade in the Empire ended but the prejudice did not. Fjord soon found his allegiance siding with the Xhorasian Dynasty, especially when the prejudice turned to war with his new found home.

Long, bitter, harsh years followed; the war dealt heavy blows on both sides of the conflict with neither looking to become a victory anytime soon. Fjord led a group of warriors in the last two years that had made a name for themselves both in the Dynasty and the Empire. Somehow they picked up the name Mighty Nine from some one with a strange accent, and it had simply stuck. They were a mixed number of people from both sides of the conflict, all banding together with the common goal of ending the bloodshed.

Fjord, the half-orc warlock, had been elected as leader (generally just in public as the group was close enough to call each other family) and was viewed as Xhorasian in origin. He was still dealing with problems regarding his patron, yet the war had proven distraction enough in recent times.

Mollymauk and Yasha were also viewed as Xhorasian in origin. Mollymauk was a Tiefling, vibrantly purple and ostentatious in dress, and a Bloodhunter by trade. Yasha was a fallen Aisimar barbarian, her size, milky skin and black hair enough cause for most any of the Empire to dismiss her.

Caduceus and Jester were considered neutral in the conflict, both from regions uninvolved in the fighting. As a Firbolg, Caduceus was better accepted on the Empire side despite his white pallor and bright pink hair. Meanwhile, Jester as a short blue Tiefling was better accepted by the Dynasty. As the clerics of the group, that had made it easier for them to gain trust of the others when they had initially joined.

Nott was a goblin, hated by both sides but her skills as a Rogue made navigating that minefield of danger possible.

Lastly, their one member from the Empire, Beauregard. A human expositor from the Cobalt Soul, the monk had been an invaluable asset during the last few weeks preceding the peace talks. While the Cobalt Soul was part of the empire and supported it, they had their own agenda that, thankfully, involved an end to the bloodshed.

The group now resided in a keep that was situated close to the main pass that connected the Dynasty and the Empire. As a mix of both sides, they were the front line for assuring peace and keeping any thoughts of invasion far from becoming reality. Apparently, however, King Dwendal thought their numbers skewed too far in favor of the Dynasty. Thus, the group had gathered in what had been a war room but was now called a conference room instead.

Fjord laid the message out on the tabletop, tapping it once as he announced the contents without preamble. It was the easiest way to get the rather chaotic group’s attention. "As a sign of their commitment to the peace, the Empire is giving us one of their Archmages."

There was a sharp outcry of 'what' and 'why' and Fjord held up a hand to still any arguments as he continued. "Her majesty did mention this as a possibility." He reminded them, speaking of the Bright Queen. "Most of us are from the Dynasty, it’s not so strange they want another representative of the Empire."

"But an _archmage_? Fjord, you have to admit, that is a little suspicious." Nott argued.

"Our group isn’t just a figurehead." Caduceus reminded the goblin. "We guard the pass and the villages around it. We show that both sides can fight together, not just against each other. It makes sense someone with battle capabilities would join our number."

"Better someone who can fight than some political liability we have to look after at all times." Fjord agreed, attention turning to Beau as the monk shook her head and leaned forward to speak.

"Unless things have changed dramatically in the last year since I've been away, mages aren’t well respected in the Empire and they don’t have much political power. There are a couple at the top, in charge of the assembly, that do. But the rest..." Beauregard shrugged.

"That could have easily changed. The last few months of fighting involved a lot of mages on their side." Molly reminded them. "Some of them leading the charge."

"Because they were running out of soldiers, same as us." Nott interjected.

"Exactly." Beau took up again, giving a brief nod of agreement. "Otherwise I doubt King Dwendal would have let them lead in the last few battles like they did."

"Okay, we don’t have to worry about this mage being sent for political reasons then." Fjord commented, trying to corral the discussion to stay on topic. "Much as I would love to trust it's for the continued peace and nothing more, there’s still the possibility he's a spy, here as a strategic way for the Empire to get some advantage before restarting the war."

Their group had worked hard to help bring about this ceasefire, Fjord did not want their hard work undone by one bloodthirsty Empire Archmage.

"You always say the best way to get to know someone is in battle, why don’t we do that?" Jester asked, breaking Fjord from his thoughts.

"That might not be the best idea." Caduceus negated. "The peace is too new and fragile. Even practice combat might be taken the wrong way."

"And accidents do happen. I don’t trust them not to make that claim if someone were hurt or killed during the spar." Nott agreed, also concerned with the possibility of war reigniting. Lack of political power or not, the Empire mages were fierce and ruthless in battle, as Nott has witnessed firsthand more than once.

"There’s been rumours of a pack of dire wolves over near the Gandre Forest. Killing sheep, pets, small children. Anything of a size that gets close." Molly offered. "I'm sure we'll get a request soon, that could be our test run?"

Fjord's gaze drifted over to Nott. The best thing about their group was that, while he was technically the leader, they were all close enough that they all viewed each other as equals. Each person had their own strengths and weakness, and they respected each other for that.

The goblin nodded. "I'll verify if it's true and get a location. Or find something else if it is not."

"Thank you." Fjord said, then leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"Fjord, don't worry." Yasha spoke up, leaning forward with a concerned expression. "If this mage causes any problems, we can just kill him"

Fjord huffed a short laugh. Yasha's brand of humor (and he hoped it was a joke, though many times only Molly was ever truly sure when she was joking) was always unexpected. "Let's try and avoid that, but thanks."

"I'm sure killing is unnecessary." Molly offered, the Tiefling’s fangs showing through his wide grin. "I'm sure Beauregard would be more than willing to straighten this mage out on who gives the orders here."

Surprisingly to both Fjord and Molly, Beau neither agreed nor laughed, just frowned deeper with an irate grunt.

Fjord sat up again, remembering that the Cobalt Soul and the Cerberus Assembly, where the entirety of the Empire mages were trained, were not on good terms. "Beau, you gonna be okay with this?"

Beau met his gaze and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Personally, I haven’t had much interaction with the Assembly. Bunch of stuck up pricks run the place. So long as we aren’t saddled with one of those assholes, I'll manage. If the point is starting the war again, makes sense they'd pick a freaking mage..." she growled.

Fjord wasn’t entirely convinced of her anger. There was a hint of doubt, a held back judgement for whoever the newest member of the group might be. Fjord took that as a good sign that, hopefully, this wouldn't be too much like throwing gunpowder on a blaze.

He took in a breath as he laid out the final tidbit of information. "They'll be here in one week. Master Trent Ikithon is escorting the Archmage here. The letter doesn't give a name but does mention he had seen battle during the fighting."

"It’s this other guy, not Trent, that's staying, right?" Beau asked.

Fjord nodded confirmation and Beauregard leaned back in her chair with a muttered 'good'. The monk didn’t look too interested in sharing if she had any concerns, so Fjord let her be. There were enough preparations to make without antagonizing the monk.

~~~

Caleb Widogast was not what one would call an imposing figure.

His hair was a dirty red, disheveled most of the time even when he made an attempt at making some order out of its chaos. Perhaps the chaos was within his own mind, thus the reason for his continued failure in such regard. His clothing was deceptively ornate, though if one were a purveyor of such it could easily be recognized as subpar material.

The Cerberus Assembly had wanted to display their wealth and power, yet fine linens were not wasted on war dogs such himself. Mages were to be of use, not to decorate the court. It made little sense to robe the mage in lavish clothing when he was simply to be of use in combat. Of course, some had argued that a gift must be properly adorned, and as such a middle ground had been reached.

Whether this truly had been the events that led to his current delivery to the Mighty Nine, Caleb did not know. He was not privy to the discussion and subsequent decision, nor was he informed of the following discussion of logistics. He could only surmise what had occurred given his current circumstance.

Three days he had been traveling with his Master, Trent Ikithon, with still two more days left in the journey.

He did wonder about those he was being delivered to. He did have some inkling of who they were, the Mighty Nine were famous within the empire. Caleb was unsure if their name was meant to be the common nine or the Zemnian word, something he pondered during the journey, given the number of individuals in the group was only currently seven. Even should they feel the need to include his name among their number, it would not add up.

Whether they would view him as worth such, he was unsure.

Most of them were from Xhorhas, so Caleb had little idea what to expect of them. He had no frame of reference for how the Dynasty viewed mages, nor where he would fall on the social ladder. His excursions into Xhorhas had been for battle purposes only and he'd had no permission to explore the culture. The Nine had, apparently, accepted the offer of himself, though Caleb knew this was no accurate measure of their intent.

Whatever his standing with them, he did not presume it would be very high, especially given the human monk, expositor Beauregard, that was a part of the group. To say the Cobalt Soul did not like the Cerberus Assembly, nor the mages it produced, was an understatement. While Caleb had only experienced this prejudice through cold looks and avoidance, he often heard of less subtle actions from Master Ikithon. He had begun to have doubts as to the validity of all of the information Trent imparted to him, yet had no other frame of reference to the truth.

From the information that had come his way regarding Beauregard, the woman was a formidable force. Opinionated and headstrong some had described her. Caleb had little doubt her views would not be hidden, and had likely been spread to the others. He hoped that would not be the case. It was... difficult living and obeying Master Ikithon who's actions and instructions were (so the man oft claimed) for Caleb's own good. He did not look forward to trying to please those who held his very existence against him.

Conjecture did little good and often led his mind down a dark path he would rather not follow. He was to follow the orders of his 'new masters' as Master Ikithon had so in-delicately put it. Trent had not been pleased to have his prized pupil taken from him, though he had been quick to devise a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Above obeying the group, Caleb had a separate set of instructions from his Master. Trent was not a man to lay out all his plans, so currently Caleb knew only that he was to gain the trust of these people, prove his loyalty however possible, and wait.

Easy enough, as he would have done so in any case. Obedience and loyalty were key to survival. Should the group be displeased with him, he would be returned to the Empire, to Trent, and his failure would not go unpunished. The thought made his heartbeat quicken in his chest, Caleb sneaking a quick glance at his master, paranoid that Trent would somehow see the weakness inside of him

The other man, however, remained seating with his gaze cast outside of the carriage. His gaze was sharp, calculating, and Caleb knew he was not idle during this long trip to the keep. Whatever his Master planned; Caleb was sure to learn his part in it in due time.

Caleb turned his gaze out the small window as well, letting his eyes roam over the open terrain as they moved steadily closer to where he would be staying for the indefinite future.


	2. Chapter 2

Caleb stared contemplatively at the ceiling above him, as if the bland white walls of the arcane mansion around him held some answer to the unease inside himself. One more full days travel on the road, one more casting of this mansion, another day’s travel and then they would arrive at the Mighty Nine's keep. Slowly, Caleb sat upright on the bed, bringing one knee up toward his chest and propping his chin upon it. The curled position did little to soothe his nerves.

He glanced toward the door to his chamber, anxiety spiking sharp in his chest as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, then clicked his fingers. In an instance, his Fey cat Frumpkin appeared. "Ah, Hallo, alter Freund." He greeted the cat in his native Zemnian, his voice a quiet whisper.

He looked towards the door again briefly, knowing there was still at least ten minutes before Master Ikithon would wake, but the ingrained fear of repercussions for the rules he was breaking could not be ignored.

Frumpkin let out a low meow, head butting against Caleb's hand in a demand for attention. The mage turned his attention to his cat, giving Frumpkin a strained smile and lifting him onto his shoulders. "Ja, ja. Ich kenne."

Curled comfortably on Caleb's shoulders, Frumpkin nuzzled his nose into Caleb's ear, earning a chuckle from the wizard, then began to purr softly. Caleb shifted his position, leaning against the wall as he sat on the bed. He leaned his head back, letting the soft purr and Frumpkin's gentle warmth seep the tension from his shoulders, the anxiety dimming to a manageable level.

No, he should not be speaking Zemnian, he should not have summoned Frumpkin. Both actions were against the well known Rules master Ikithon had long ago laid out. But, and he should not admit such weakness even in the privacy of his own thoughts, he was _afraid_.

He knew so very little of these people he would soon be living with. His information was limited to that which he had observed, experienced, or heard, but it all pertained to the battlefield. The one member of the group he had some knowledge of their personality was of no comfort, she would despise him for the mere fact of what he was.

Most of them were Xhorasian, warriors who would have little tolerance for weakness or mistakes. It would take _time_ to learn their preferences, time he did not believe he would be allowed. And there were so many new preferences to learn, he was bound to make mistakes. Master Ikithon’s tolerance for failure was nonexistent, his punishments for it harsh. How would these Mighty Nine measure in comparison? Not that he deserved anything gentler, after the things he had done.

He felt a gentle pinch of feline teeth on his earlobe and reached up to scratch Frumpkin's head. His friend always knew when his thoughts began to trail down a darker path, knew how to pull him back before the memories became too much. He picked Frumpkin up from around his neck, hugging the cat close to his chest. He buried his face in the fur, Frumpkin's purr rising in volume as if that alone would be able to stave off the fear and anxiety until next time he was able to be summoned.

Too soon, his time was up.

Caleb clicked his finger once more and Frumpkin vanished, leaving the room to almost feel colder, darker than before. Alone again, Caleb took a steadying breath and rose. With a quick wave of his hand, he cast prestidigitation on himself, the few wrinkles and blemishes on his clothing vanishing instantly. He exited the room, making his way to the mansion foyer. It was empty when he arrived, the driver having already left to prepare for their departure. Caleb moved to stand near the doorway, though still well within the foyer as he awaited Master Ikithon. This was an old routine, easily followed, and almost soothing in its simplicity.

Before long Trent appeared, breezing past Caleb without acknowledging him and exiting the mansion. Obediently, Caleb followed in step behind him, blinking in the morning sun as they stepped out of the arcane doorway. True to his assumption, the carriage and driver were prepared to leave. Trent was already striding towards them, apparently well eager to be on the move. Caleb glanced at the mansion doorway, dismissing it with little to no flourish in deference to Trent’s apparent hurry.

He kept his gaze respectfully lowered as he entered the carriage with Trent, feeling the master's eyes on him.

"When we arrive, I expect you to put more effort into impressing you new keepers, boy." Trent ordered, a sneer in his tone.

Caleb flushed red, nodding and stuttering out an affirmative. As the words left his mouth, the tension in the small compartment rose, an almost icy chill coming from Trent.

"We do not stammer, Caleb." Trent warned, tone going smooth and dangerous. A calm before the storm. "Weakness is not tolerated. You are a product of the Cerberus Assembly, of my tutelage, and we are _not_ weak."

Caleb sat stiff and rigid in his seat, throat tight as he let out a slow breath and forced himself to focus on the words, on sitting still and not moving away. Stifling the instinct to run because that would do him no good. "I am sorry, Master." He breathed out, sickeningly relieved at the steadiness of the words. He dared glance up at Trent, gauging his expression for a moment before adding, "Please, I beg forgiveness for the mistake."

He had not meant to stammer, would that he could turn back time and speak nothing at all. He had not expected the criticism of his action, had been caught off guard. Yet saying as much, offering such excuses, would only incur further anger from Master Ikithon. Excuses were not tolerated, excuses that pointed out his own weakness even less so.

Trent responded with a low growled insult but made no further move or orders. Caleb remained still and quiet, the minutes slipping silently by as the carriage swayed with the motion and bumps on the road. Eventually, Caleb lifted his eyes to regard Trent, his master once again staring calculatingly outside the moving carriage. With Trent's ire gone, and his attention elsewhere, Caleb was able to somewhat relax back into his seat. A poor start to the morning, yet it appeared this day’s travel would follow the same pattern as the previous four. If nothing else, the routine was a comfort.

~~

"No." Beau stated bluntly, arms crossed as she looked at Fjord with her head tilted confidently to the side.

"Oh, come on, you know how those two are together." Fjord tried to convince her, knowing by the set of her jaw and furrowed brow it was a lost cause.

"Then send Caduceus with them if you're so worried. They're just going a few hours away; I don’t see what the big deal is." Beau huffed.

"It's _Nott_ and _Jester_ , do you really want them to go investigating on their own? _Again_?" Fjord barked back, tone clipped and frustrated.

Beau had the audacity to smirk at him, putting a hand on her hip. "What? I thought they did pretty good last time."

Fjord groaned, running a hand down his face. Last time Jester had tagged along with Nott on a recon mission (and he still wasn’t sure which of them had the brilliant idea in the first place), they'd both come back filthy, a little bloody, and extremely proud of themselves. Except whatever antics they’d got up to had royally screwed up the contract the mission had been for. Yes, it had turned out okay in the end, but that didn’t change the fact that putting those two together unsupervised often ended up going completely AWOL from then plan.

"Fine. Fine! I'll ask Caduceus..." Fjord agreed in exasperation, knowing he'd lost this particular debate.

"I'm gonna tell Jester and Nott what you said about them!" Beau yelled after him as he turned to walk away. Without missing a beat, Fjord just lifted a hand and flipped her off, shaking his head at the laughter that followed.

Sure, Fjord knew Jester and Nott could get the job done, and probably wouldn't get too off track since this whole thing had been Jester's idea in the first place. But this deal with the Empire and the new Archmage member of their group was important, Fjord couldn't help but worry and nitpick.

They had six days until the two mages arrived, counting today. Fjord guessed Nott and Jester wouldn't return until tomorrow at the earliest, later if the rumour of dire wolves was unfounded and they needed to find a plan B. So long as they didn’t create a plan B, Fjord would be content with whatever news they brought back.

Fjord frowned to himself, stopping and turning around. Now that the thought had occurred to him, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight unless he made sure Jester and Nott knew _not_ to make up anything if the wolves were fake. And a reminder to wait for the rest of the group in the event the threat was real couldn’t hurt.

He heard them before he even got close.

“Jester! How many cupcakes do you need? It’s only a three hour ride!”

“Nooooootttt.” Jester complained, drawing out the goblin’s name. “Some are for eating, some are for the Traveler, of course, and some are for you! For your SPELLS.”

Fjord walked into the room in time to see Jester putting her hands on her hips as she spoke the last word in a sassy tone, half leaning toward Nott.

“Oh.” Nott chirped, looking over at what were a few rather stale looking muffins. “In that case…”

Fjord shook his head as he approached them, watching as Nott snatched up the rationed baked goods and stored them in a pouch at her side. “Please tell me you’ll at least _try_ not to need to use them?”

“Fjord! Did you come to see us off?” Jester teased, turning back to the cupcakes and finishing packing them up.

“And trying to make sure everything is prepared for our visitors.” Fjord said, not bothering to waste his time denying her question. That would just delay their departure, because Jester would have to try and convince him that, in fact, seeing them off was why he was there.

“Now, remember, when you get there, just talk to the villagers. If there is a pack of dire wolves, please don’t try and find their den yourselves.” Fjord stated patiently.

“But! We could sneak really close, find out how many there are, where they like to sleep.” Nott offered, fingers nimbly unscrewing the cap on her flask.

Fjord resisted the urge to roll his eyes. From the way Nott was talking, she’d probably had a few nips while preparing to leave. “I’m sure you could, you’re both amazingly stealthy, but let’s stick to just asking the locals and coming back here okay?”

“Don’t worry so much Fjord.” Jester assured him, patting his arm as she walked by and let the way outside to where two horses were saddled and waiting. “We will just go to Gandre, ask around, and come right back!”

Fjord tried to be reassured, but he was pretty sure the expression on his face was still full of doubt if Nott’s annoyed ‘hmph’ was anything to go by. Jester didn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with putting her supplies in the saddle bag, then pulling herself atop the horse.

With a cheerful wave of goodbye to Fjord, Jester urged her mount forward, Nott’s following behind. Fjord sighed, scratching the back of his head. Damn... he'd forgotten to get Caduceus... He shook his head then turned to head back inside. They'd manage on their own, he had other thoughts to consider. Horses for instance. They’d been supplied with the Keep, but if the Mighty Nine were getting a new member, they’d need one extra. And he hadn’t considered if that Trent Ikithon were to come with them to deal with the supposed wolves. If worse came to worse, Nott could ride double with someone.  
Now if he could just figure out how to word their proposition to the mages when they showed up, preferably in a way that would not insult them or the Empire. They would view it as coming from the Dynasty, would take that offense back to the Empire, and this whole thing would be in vain.

Six days. They had six days. Plenty of time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer for here and going forward, I only have a vague grasp on how spells work in DND, so.... yeah. Please forgive any mistakes on the rules of how stuff works.

Mollymauk’s tail twitched lazily behind him, the bloodhunter currently occupying himself by practicing his tarot cards. He had a few ideas for additions to his deck, but he didn’t feel like dragging out the supplies right now to work on them. That would require going back inside and it was too beautiful of a day out.

Not to mention going inside would run the risk of being caught by Fjord and coerced into some task or another. Their fearless leader was all in a twist making sure everything was in shape for their new mage and his escort, Trent Ikithon. But Molly supposed someone had to be on top of things, and better Fjord than himself.

He flipped out a card, giving a little hum of surprise. Something unexpected coming, huh? That sounded fun. Molly shuffled the cards again, tucking them into their place in his pocket then shifting to lay along the bench he was sitting on. He tucked his hands behind his head, watching the clouds drift overhead in the blue sky. Fjord should take some time to relax like this, he was way too stressed. Everything had been done by the second day, ready for the visit and new member, Fjord was just driving himself and everyone else crazy.

Perhaps he should have gone with Jester and Nott… Jester had sent Fjord a message yesterday, three messages to be exact, letting him know the Dire Wolves were a legitimate threat to be dealt with.  
Jester and Nott planned to leave this morning to journey back and Molly would guess they were probably on the road by now provided they hadn’t gotten distracted.

He’d bet they were having a more eventful time then he was.

Or perhaps not. Molly turned to face the sound of horse hooves and creak of wood that approached. An odd time for visitors, they weren’t expecting anyone.

Molly let out a curse in infernal, bolting upright. They _were_ expecting visitors, but not for another three days. Molly wondered if maybe that had been the plan; show up early, get all offended, leave in a huff. Much as he would rather not deal with some prejudice Empire socialite, he wanted less to return to the battlefield.

He hurried first toward the gardens. As amusing as it would be to piss off the Empire’s errand boy by leaving him to find his own way, it wasn’t worth the possible repercussions.

“Cad! Hey, Caduceus!” He called out, looking around the enclosed greenhouse, Caduceus’ favorite spot.

“Molly, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Caduceus spoke up, head lifting from where he appeared to have been speaking with one of the plants.

“We got some guests arrived early. You mind going to greet them while I give Fjord a heads up?” Molly asked, already turning and giving Caduceus a farewell wave before the Firbolg could answer. “Thanks, gotta run!”

He really hoped this Trent and other mage guy took their time. He entered the keep, pausing at the entrance as he wondered just how the hell he was going to find Fjord.

~~

Caduceus had shaken his head as Molly dashed away, unsurprised by the purple Tieflings antics.

So, the mages had arrived early. How wonderful. Though, he could appreciate why Molly might not think so. Or Fjord for that matter. Politics were such delicate things; it was why he generally tried not to involve himself in them.

Still, it appeared he was the only one available to greet the mages it seemed, though he hoped Molly was going to fetch Fjord and not just leaving it up to him. He doubted very much that Mister Trent and whoever was with him would enjoy trailing around the keep in search of Fjord.

Caduceus had begun moving as he thought, brushing the dirt and plant debris from his clothing as he exited the greenhouse. Their visitors were easy to find, the carriage driver had only just moved from his seat to the horse, the door of the carriage beginning to open.

Caduceus moved unhurriedly in their direction, letting the mages take in their surrounds as well as giving him an opportunity to study them in return. It was easy to tell which was Trent Ikithon, the older man held a look of self-importance and confidence. Greying hair marked him as past his prime, or so Caduceus had been told was customary in humans.

The unnamed mage, the one who was going to be joining them at the Keep, was much younger, more subdued in stature. His hair was disheveled, but the most interesting red in color. Caduceus may have been more acceptable to the Empire’s taste regarding his race, but his upbringing and profession had given him little opportunity to interact with humans. Or anyone at all, for that matter.

“Ah, you must be Master Trent Ikithon.” Caduceus greeted them once he had come close enough. He addressed Trent mainly because his was the only name he knew, though he supposed it was probably the expected course anyway. “We didn’t expect you for another day or more. My name is Caduceus Clay, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Caleb could tell stepping out of the carriage that Master Trent was unimpressed, both with the lack of welcoming entourage and the Keep in general. Caleb had not had any expectation in that regard, the worry over the occupants of the Keep overruling the aesthetics of the quarters he would exist in.

When the Firbolg approached, Caleb couldn’t help but stare, Master’s rules be damned. He’d been ordered to earn their trust and prove his loyalty, he needed to know what and who he was dealing with in order to succeed. Here was were the transition in his obedience would occur in any case.

Caleb felt a hint of appreciation that Mister Clay introduced himself. Caleb was familiar with the names of the members of the Mighty Nine and was confident which name went with which face; however, confirmation was welcome. The Firbolg was unexpectedly tall, towering over both himself and Master Trent. Caduceus was almost an unhealthy looking thin, pale skin contrasted by his bright hair, and Caleb almost had to remind himself this man was a part of the infamous Mighty Nine. His expression was so calm and unconcerned.

“Caduceus.” Trent repeated the name, his tone disapproving with a hint of condescension. “What do you mean, you did not expect us. Did you not receive the message?”

Caleb’s shoulders tensed, both in apprehension of the dangerous note in Trent’s voice and in sympathy for whoever was going to suffer for that oversight.

Caduceus did not flinch nor did his expression falter in the face of Trent’s ire, further proof his experience as a warrior in Caleb’s mind. “Of course we received your message. It indicated you would be arriving an about three days from now.” Caduceus responded easily, then turned his attention from Trent to Caleb. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Caduceus Clay. What might your name be?”

Caleb felt a chill of panic seize his throat, heart stuttering in his chest. He had been following Master Ikithon’s lead, Trent had not responded to Caduceus’ introduction with his own name and so Caleb had not known he was required to do so. He gave a short bow to hide his trepidation and give himself a moment to ensure his voice did not fail him as he spoke. “It is an honor to meet you Mister Clay. I am Caleb Widogast.” He introduced himself politely, keeping his gaze lowered as he straightened from the bow. A misstep so soon after arriving did not bode well for his time here.

“Of course, the honor is mine Mister Caleb.” Caduceus replied in the same easygoing tone.

Caleb wasn’t sure what to make of the words, did not trust the unassuming tone and laidback attitude. Caduceus was acting contrary to all of his expectations of how he had imagined his reception at the keep being.

Trent broke the short reverie between the two, taking a step forward with crossed arms and impatience coloring his tone. “If you would be so kind, perhaps you would like to escort us to Fjord, your appointed leader.”

“Of course, right this way.” Caduceus agreed contentedly, turning from Caleb to face Trent once more. After a short nod, he turned to lead the small group towards the keep. Caleb fell into step slightly behind Master Trent on his left. This placed him closest to Caduceus who, after a brief appraising glance at Caleb, paid little attention to him.

Caduceus held the door open for them and waved them inside, closing it behind him as he entered after. The inside was as unassuming as the outward appearance, lacking the ornateness of the Cerberus Assembly in Rexxentrum. Fjord soon appeared, Mollymauk at his side, and Caleb focused his attention as the two drew closer.

“Master Ikithon, I apologize. It appears there was some miscommunication as to your arrival. Please, welcome to our Keep. We appreciate the Empire’s commitment to this peace, and we welcome the Archmage’s skills joining our group.” Fjord expressed, a less than polished iteration of the sentiments he was expected to extend to the Empire’s representative.

“Of course.” Trent replied, tone still icy. “I am sure he will be a great asset to you. The empire offer’s our most skilled in support of the continued peace.” He cast a glance at Caleb, who gave a short bow toward Fjord at the unspoken order.

“It will be an honor to be of assistance any way I can.” He intoned dutifully.

“Actually, if it would be acceptable, we received a request for assistance from a local village, some dire wolves over by the Gandre Forest some three hours ride from here. If your Archmage here would care to come along, we can see how he works with us?” Fjord asked. It was less polished than he would have like, but they’d arrived two days earlier than he’d expected so he’d been unprepared.

“You doubt the capabilities of the Assembly’s finest Archmage?” Trent asked, brow furrowed and tone going from icy to downright glacial.

“Not at all!” Fjord hastened to explain. “We just are of the opinion the best way to get to know someone is comrade in arms. We want this to work, to be a smooth transition. In fact, we would welcome you to come along as well, if you would like.”

“It’s not an evaluation.” Mollymauk interjected smoothly, catching on to the point of affront Trent seemed to be holding onto. “More of an introduction, to break the ice so to speak.”

Caleb could easily read between the lines of the conversation. It made sense the Mighty Nine would with the evaluate the capabilities of the mage they were to obtain. Political phrasing was, of course, a necessity given the still present tension between the two nations.

“Very well.” Trent acquiesced, not bothering to color his tone with politeness.

“Thank you. Ah, one more favor, from you, actually.” Fjord added, turning his attention on Caleb. He was struck for a moment by the awkwardness of still having no name to apply to the mage. “Do you know how to cast Sending?”

Caleb blinked in surprise, though manage to keep his expression neutral. “Ah, yes, I am familiar with the spell.” He stated, fighting to keep the words from lilting up into a question at the end. Was this a test of sorts, determining if he knew the most basic of spells?

“Good, could you send a message to Jester, let her know we’ll meet her on the way to Gandre? She and Nott will be headed back here by now and this way we won’t have to waste any time.” Fjord explained.

“The spell does require familiarity with the intended recipient.” Caleb informed him, intoning what he hoped was an appropriate amount of regret into his words. He had never had to remind someone of the limitations of a spell, Trent or others of the assembly would have known, and Caleb did not want Fjord to take his explanation as lack of respect.

“Oh, uh…” Fjord hesitated, frowning for a moment. “Wait! Will this do?” He asked, waving a hand and casting what Caleb recognized as Disguise Self and suddenly a blue Tiefling stood in Fjord’s place.

“Now that’s just weird…” Mollymauk commented from the side, hiding a snort behind his hand.

“I believe that will be sufficient.” Caleb said after a moment of thought. He reached into his component bag, taking out the thread of fine copper wire. “Do you have a specific message I should deliver?”

Fjord shook his head. “Just tell her you and Master Ikithon arrived here ahead of schedule,” he paused briefly and corrected himself, glancing at Trent when the man made an irritated noise, “earlier than we expected, and that we will be leaving for Gandre immediately, instead of waiting for them to return. She and Nott can go back and wait for us in Gandre.“

Caleb inclined his head, dropping his gaze as he considered how to convey the message within the limitations of the spell. He was not sure if he was expected to condense the message, or if he was to simply cast the spell a second time. He had already mis-stepped once today and did not want to make that mistake again.

Asking Fjord to reword the message in the confines of twenty-five words was not acceptable either. It would either insult the half-orc or anger Master Ikithon, the later who would not be pleased with the implication he was incapable of translating the message to fit the spell.

He lifted the wire to his lips, making a decision before his hesitation became another point to be corrected, and spoke the short incantation to the spell. “Jester, Master Ikithon and myself arrived sooner than expected. We will leave for Gandre immediately instead of waiting your return.”

He shifted his gaze back to Fjord, hoping his shortened message was adequate and acceptable. The blue Tiefling disguise shimmered then dropped, Fjord’s normal visage returning as he nodded at Caleb. “Thank you. She might respond, just let me know if she says anything important.”

Caleb nodded, though he wished for clarification on what Fjord considered ‘important’. The man’s attention had shifted however, and Caleb was left to pray that if Jester answered he would not choose incorrectly of its importance.

Fjord turned to look at Molly once the message had been sent, only to find the bloodhunter was no longer standing with them.

“He’s gone to get Beau and Yasha.” Caduceus supplied. “And since there’s not enough horses for us all, why don’t you all go and I’ll remain here. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting mister Caleb and I think we’ll get along fine.”

Caleb was distracted from the conversation as voice entered his mind, presumably Jester. “Hi! This is Jester, I guess you are the mage coming with Trent. What is your name? Anyway, I’m glad you made it okay, we’ll-” The rest of the message was cut off, the word limitations of the spell being reached. Caleb could find little that might be considered important in the reply, so he did not broach the subject with Fjord.

He tuned into the conversation again in time to hear Fjord request Caduceus assist getting the horses ready for travel and the Furblog’s agreement to do so.

“It won’t take long for us to be on our way.” Fjord explained, tone slightly apologetic though his expression held a note of irritation. “If you would accompany me, we can discuss the agreement while we wait.”

Caleb trailed along behind Fjord and Trent as the two led the way, letting his eyes and mind wander. He had not made the best impression so far, would need to make up for his previous failing. If he was unable to impress the Mighty Nine during this ‘introduction’, as Mollymauk had put it, there was the high probability they would request a different mage.

Phrased correctly, Master Ikithon would not be able to refuse them, would return to Rexxentrum with him and send another in his place.

Caleb let out a slow, silent breath. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, feeling an irrational need to click Frumpkin into this plane, to calm his racing heart listening to the purr of the fey cat. Instead, he kept his eyes forward, keeping in step with the other two as they moved through the Keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. How was that for first meetings?


	4. Chapter 4

Caleb accepted the reigns of a sandy brown mare from Caduceus, nodding in acknowledgment when he was told the beasts name (Cinnamon), and gently patted its neck. Cinnamon seemed a calm enough animal, likely would not be difficult to control. Caleb was not completely comfortable on horseback. He knew how to ride, of course, he simply did not prefer it as a mode of transportation. Not that his preferences were worth anything, nor was it likely his opinion was welcome, so he silently dragged himself up into the saddle when the others began to mount their own beasts.

“The road between here and Gandre is fairly safe, and it’s only a couple hours ride, especially in good weather like we have.” Fjord told them, words obviously meant for Caleb and Trent, though he directed it to the group as a whole.

There was no response from Trent and, of course, Caleb said nothing as well. Fjord took a breath and turned his horse to take the lead. This was going to be a _long_ trip.

They rode in silence for a time, the Keep shrinking and then vanishing in the distance before the silence became too much for Fjord. He never thought he’d miss the loud antics of Nott and Jester… somehow the silence was giving him a better headache than their insane planning sessions. Beau was ranging beside and in front of him as they traveled, Molly doing the same. Yasha brought up the rear and that was the _only_ normal thing about this trip so far.

Fjord let out a low sigh, glancing back at the two mages in their company. Neither of them had made a peep for the last hour and it didn’t look like that would be changing for the final leg of the journey.

He turned his attention to Beau as she moved closer to travel at his side, apparently having heard him. Either that or she was just as bored as he was.

“You weren’t kidding about them.” Fjord muttered to Beau as they rode along the trail, glancing back to make sure Trent and Caleb, whose name he only knew thanks to Caduceus by the way, were far enough away they wouldn’t be able to hear. “No introductions or anything. Trent’s name was on the message, but he at least could have introduced Caleb. Or Caleb introduce himself…”

“Pretty typical.” Beau scoffed, attention focused on the road in front of them as she mimicked Fjord’s lowered voice. “Probably think’s so much of themselves they don’t need an introduction. Message said it was one of the battle mages, right? Wouldn’t surprise me if they were all egotistical pricks.”

Fjord chuckled, glad to have something to break the relentless silence with, even if it was just complaining to Beau about their two tag along Empire mages. He knew next to nothing about them, only his first impressions upon meeting them. His conversation with Trent while waiting for the horses to be prepared had been strained to say the least. He could tell he wouldn’t ever come to like the man and thought he was beginning to understand why Beau had wanted clarification a few days ago that Trent wasn’t the one joining them.

He hadn’t spoken to Caleb since the request for the man to send a message to Jester. He guessed the cleric either hadn’t responded or had only gotten half her reply to Caleb before being cut off. The archmage hadn’t mentioned being bombarded with messages, so Jester probably hadn’t bothered wasting spells to keep talking to him. Other than that, the mage was cold and distant, so far just sticking close to Trent.

Fjord shook the thoughts away. Let the mages keep to themselves for now if they wanted, it wasn’t too difficult to see which of them was the biggest issue, even if he had doubts about them both.

~

As they had begun the journey to Gandre, Caleb remained in his usually place at Trent's side. The two of them were positioned in the center of their loose traveling line, Yasha acting as the rear guard. Fjord led the way, with Molly and Beauregard ranging from traveling beside him, to the side and, in the case of Beau, occasionally riding ahead.

For a while, Caleb took the time to study them, watching each member of the group as they traveled.

The monk was obviously at home wherever she went. Beauregard rode with her staff slung over her shoulder at times, using only her legs to guide her horse. Her glares when she had arrived with a larger woman, Yasha Caleb guessed, before they left were scathing enough, Caleb did not want to cross her. She had yet to speak a word to himself or Master Ikithon, yet she was somehow the most intimidating of them all.

Yasha seemed content to ride peaceably by herself. She was difficult for Caleb to read and his current observations of the woman clashed with the prior information on her. In battle, she was a fierce warrior, full of strength and rage, striking fear into her opponents. Watching her now, she was oddly peaceful, alert but relaxed.

Molly appeared to be letting his horse set the pace in keeping up with the group, the reigns laying slack against the beast’s neck as the Tiefling amused himself with cards of some kind. At one point the bloodhunter had looked over to see Caleb watching him, giving him a wink and a saucy wave. Caleb averted his gaze quickly, a slight flush rising to his cheeks.

All Caleb could see of Fjord was his back, though he thought it appeared the half-orc was rather restless during the journey.

All four of them seemed to be keeping their distance from himself and Master Ikithon. He knew little about their usual interactions with each other, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out the silence during their journey was unnatural to them.

Seemingly also having tired of the silence and Caleb’s lack of progress, Trent flicked his wrist to urge his horse closer to Caleb. "You have had you orders, boy. Unless you wish to return with me, I suggest you start following them." He hissed slowly, sharp eyes making sure the conversation was between them alone.

Caleb followed Trent’s gaze to where Fjord and Beau were speaking lowly, the conversation of some amusement going by the grin on Fjords features. The last thing Caleb wanted to do was interrupt a conversation or get too close to Beauregard. However, Master Ikithon was correct, he was in danger of failing if he did not find someway to ingratiate himself to these people.

Molly and Yasha were somewhat separate from the group, though still close enough to easy go on the defensive should it become necessary. Fjord and Beau held the same type of position and Caleb had noted that even when Beauregard ranged ahead, it was never too far as to be susceptible to an attack. They were obviously well practiced at traveling as a group.

He and Trent being in the center, Caleb could not help but envision their presence as the cause for the other four to be ranged so far apart. Trent’s warning and reminder was meant to be incentive for him to put forth some effort of integrating himself into the group, and it was terrifyingly effective, yet Caleb could not work out how to bridge the gap between himself and the Mighty Nine.

Perhaps if he distanced himself from Master Trent?

“Of course, master.” Caleb murmured quietly, knowing he would need to acknowledge Ikithon’s words if he didn’t want to insult him by moving away. He waited a few minutes before letting his mount slowly drift from Trent’s side. The distance grew slowly, Caleb didn’t want to be too obvious in his motions, and after a while there was a healthy distance between them.

This did little to help him figure out just how to initiate an interaction with one of the others. Interrupting Beauregard and Fjord seemed a _spectacularly_ bad idea. The monk's continued practice of ignoring himself and Trent said well enough she wanted nothing to do with them. Were it not for the politics behind his and Trent’s visit, he had no doubt they would not have received such a warm welcome. Fjord perhaps might be more accepting, but he was engaged with Beau at the moment.

Of course, it did not help that they had arrived before the Nine were prepared for them. Whether it had been by accident or design mattered little, it was enough that it would likely make it more difficult for Caleb to ingratiate himself to these people as Trent had ordered him to do.

“You should not wander too far.”

Caleb gave a startled jerk at the soft tone, looking over at Yasha in surprise. For one so large and fierce, she spoke gently. “Ah, yes, of course.” He made a point of tugging the reigns to guide the horse a step closer to the center of the group. Yasha remained close by, much to Caleb’s relief. This, hopefully, would appease Master Ikithon and perhaps be a more positive first interaction than the one he’d had with Caduceus.

“What is your name?” Yasha asked.

Caleb looked back at her from where his gaze had drifted away during the silence. “Ah.” He blinked, feeling stupidly awkward. “Caleb. My name is Caleb. Widogast.” He finally managed.

“Oh. Caleb. That is a nice name. My name is Yasha.” Yasha spoke, turning her gaze away from Caleb, much to his relief.

“I am sorry, for not introducing myself earlier.” Caleb offered tentatively.

Yasha shook her head. “No, it is alright. You probably already know all of our names. But the message did not give us your name. Why was that?”

“Playing twenty questions with our new wizard?”

Caleb had been alerted to Molly’s approach; the horse’s plodding footsteps were far from stealthy. The purple Tiefling’s deep crimson eyes were unnerving, especially giving the grin that showed off his fangs. Mollymauk sounded surprisingly normal and remarkably friendly, so Caleb hoped the smile was not something to cover a more sinister intent.

“His name is Caleb.” Yasha supplied, smiling at Molly.

“Finally!” Molly all but cheered the word. “I can stop calling you ‘the mage’ every time I look at you. Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service.” He introduced himself, giving a flamboyant flourish.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mollymauk. And you as well Yasha.” He added, giving a respectful nod to the both of them.

Molly tilted his head, still smiling though the expression was more confused. “So formal, Caleb.”

Caleb hesitated, getting the sense that Molly did not consider that a good thing. Almost without his volition, Caleb found himself looking over toward Master Ikithon. Molly followed his gaze, vocalizing an indecipherable hum that Caleb was at a loss to interpret.

“I suppose we’ll get better acquainted later then.” Molly shrugged, sounding unconcerned. With a click of his tongue and a tap of his heels, Molly moved forward to catch up with Fjord and Beauregard. He joined their conversation without hesitation, interjection himself between them and laughing at Beau’s curses when her horse shied away from his.

Caleb looked over at Yasha for direction, but she simply shrugged her shoulders at him. Apparently, she was content to simply follow Mollymauk’s lead, effectively ending their conversation. Caleb could feel the anxiety creeping up his chest, his gaze focusing forward once more. He had thought, had hoped, the interaction had been going somewhat positively. He played the conversation over again in his mind, trying to determine what he had said wrong.

The rest of the journey was made in silence for Caleb. He did not venture back over to Master Ikithon, as Yasha remained nearby. She did not attempt to converse with him, and he could think of nothing intelligent to say to her. The silence was not uncomfortable, it lacked the tense expectation he felt waiting upon Trent. The trio riding at the forefront of the group was the sole source of conversation.

Somehow, Yasha and Molly’s approach to Caleb seemed to have cut some of the tension in the journey.

Trent’s countenance had not changed, the older mage still riding haughty and apart from the others, though still central in the position of the party. Caleb was mindful of his presence, as always attentive in the event Trent might shift his attention in search of his mage for some reason.

Soon enough, they began seeing scattered farms and homes, even a traveler or two. Further on the horizon was a mass of green, which Caleb presumed was the Gandre Forest. Soon they would meet up with the final too members of the Mighty Nine and that would be that. They would find these dire wolves and the group would decide if he were worth keeping around or not.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't always have time to post a chapter on weekends, but lucky for all you readers, this time I do!

“FJorrrrd! Ovver here!”

Caleb’s gaze, as well as the rest of the party’s, was drawn to a vibrant blue Tiefling waving her arms ecstatically from her position at the doorway of a somewhat dubious looking inn. Even with the distance, Caleb was able to recognize the voice and accent of Jester. Given the way Fjord simply sighed and led them straight towards her, he guessed this was typical behavior on her part.

Caleb didn’t need to look over at Master Ikithon to know his lip would be curling in disgusted disapproval. Such an embarrassing outburst would _never_ have been tolerated at the Assembly. Even though he was well out of arms reach of Trent, Caleb felt a sudden spike of anxiety and nerves. He glanced over at Master Ikithon and dropping his gaze soon after when met with the exact expression he had imagined would be upon the man’s face.

He felt a surge of relief that the expression was not directed at himself, and that Jester was under Fjord’s leadership and not Master Ikithon’s. Between this display and the message she had sent him earlier, Caleb would guess she was often exuberant, energetic and outgoing. Caleb was almost envious of how at ease she appeared.

The others had moved ahead once they were within the confines of the town, so luckily none of them seemed to notice the revulsion on the older mage’s face. Caleb knew Trent would school his expression soon, his master was well adept at politics after all, so he turned his attention to the interactions between the others as they reunited with Jester.

“Nott is still inside.” Jester was saying, glancing back at the dingy doorway with a slightly disapproving look.

Beau strode past Jester to enter the inn/tavern, patting her on the shoulder as she went, but otherwise didn’t say anything. Caleb was impressed with the monk’s stubborn refusal to speak in front of himself and Master Ikithon. He’d yet to hear her voice, when she and Fjord had been talking on the journey it had been too quietly for him to overhear.

Caleb had came to a halt when Trent did, following his master’s actions by habit. A part of him knew that would get him in trouble sooner or later, seeing as the Empire had given him to the Mighty Nine and it was their orders he was to be following now. Yet so far they had mostly ignored him.

Trent and Caleb were close enough to hear the others speaking, but Trent was simply giving the town a disapproving look as he impatiently waited. Caleb dismounted Cinnamon, seeing as the others had already done the same (except for Master Ikithon), and handed the reigns to Molly when he approached and held out a hand expectantly.

“Please tell me she hasn’t been drinking since we messaged you this morning…” Fjord asked Jester, a hint of weary resignation in his tone.

“No.” Jester denied, pulling the word out in a way that did not instill confidence in anyone. “We _were_ already on the road, and we came back to wait, like you said to.” She did a little wiggle as she spoke the last bit.

“That’s a relief.” Fjord replied, dropping his tone so the mages couldn’t hear his next words. “I’d like to get a move on with this? I’ve started to think we should have just said thanks and send the other guy on his way.” He still agreed with Jester about having a test battle to see the new mage, Caleb he remembered, would work well with them. He just wasn’t sure it was worth the hassle of dealing with Trent.

“Of course!” Jester chirped in her normal cheerful tone, hopping down from the slightly raised platform of wood that was probably called a porch for the tavern. “The wolves are on the eastern side of the Gandre Forest. And NO, we did not go looking for them! Some of the villagers went out hunting for them.”

“Something tells me that didn’t go over too well.” Molly commented, joining them now that he had finished settling most of the horses at the small stable attached to the building.

Jester shook her head, but Nott spoke up before her, having exited the tavern with Beau. “Of course it didn’t! But at least now we know _where_ the little beasties are.”

“And I drew us a map!” Jester said proudly, waving a folded piece of parchment.

“Good, that means we don’t have to waste time tracking them.” Beau barked, disgruntled expression on her face.

“Then shall we be on our way?” Trent interrupted, tone icy as ever.

Beau gave a low growl, fist clenching at her sides as she tensed, glaring at Trent. Fjord quickly stepped in front of her, addressing Trent before Beau did or said something they would all probably approve of, but ultimately regret. He was getting tired of dealing with this mage as well. “A wonderful idea, we should get moving. I’d guess they’re most active at night. We should catch them off guard if we leave now.”

“Ummm, excuse me, but who are you?” Jester asked with absolutely no preamble.

“Introductions while we walk.” Molly interrupted hurriedly, reaching out to snatch the parchment from Jester and shove it into Beau’s hands in the hopes that would be enough to distract her from Trent’s idiocy.

“But Molly-“ Jester began, starting to move forward as Molly gave her a push.

“While we walk!” Molly interrupted again, shaking his head. “Come on, sooner we get going, the sooner we can go home. Everyone’s already tired of today.”

He threw a longsuffering look towards Fjord, not receiving any sympathy as Fjord was currently trying to placate one very irate mister Ikithon. Molly wanted to roll his eyes because, hello? Lost cause. At least Caleb wasn’t making a fuss, Molly thought appreciatively, glancing over to make sure that was still the case. Unsurprisingly, the man was as neutral as ever. Molly still wasn't sure what to make of the man. He was certainly odd, but something told him Caleb's silent aloof coldness wasn't all that it seemed.

Between them all, they were certainly putting the Empire’s commitment to this peace to the test…

~~

Introductions made (as gracefully as possibly by Fjord), the group traveled (once again) in silence.

The tension was more palpable, both Molly and Fjord endeavoring to keep themselves between Beau and Trent. The less those two even so much as made eye contact, the better. Caleb stayed on the other side of Trent, equally as separated from the temperamental monk. Jester appeared to be pouting for a while, Nott simply ignoring them all while taking occasional nips from a silver flask at her side. Yasha remained unmoved by the entire events so far as Caleb could tell.

The group began to move slower the closer they got, focusing on stealth rather than speed. For a while, Jester and Nott took the lead, the other’s silently following. Caleb was impressed with how well they worked together, and a bit daunted by the thought of finding some way to become part of that well practiced connection. After a while, Fjord motioned them all to stop, gathering them together to discuss the plan of attack, so Caleb assumed.

“Nott’s gone to scout ahead, give us a heads up what we’re walking into.” Fjord told them, voice quiet.

Caleb glanced around at them all, only now realizing Nott was no longer with the group. He refocused his attention on Fjord as the warlock continued speaking. “We’ll attack on multiple fronts, we don’t want any of them getting away. There shouldn’t be that many of them or the town wouldn’t-“ He stopped as Nott appeared at the edge of the group, worming her way past Yasha and Molly to join them.

“I counted four wolves, definitely dire wolves. And one of them looked _nasty_ , with all sorts of spikes and long teeth-“

“Nott, focus.” Fjord snapped in a clipped tone.

“Right, sorry, I’m sorry. There were two humans as well and I don’t think they suspect anything.” Nott reported. “But they were all geared up and it looks like they might be leaving soon.”

“No one mentioned anything about the wolves being attack dogs for _bandits_.” Jester complained, crossing her arms irritably.

“They have a lot of gold though.” Nott added, apparently not sharing Jester’s disappointment at the misinformation. “And some other cool looking _stuff_.”

“That doesn’t change the plan, though we should move quickly.” Fjord told them, giving Nott a stern look. “Nott, you and Beau sneak around behind them and message one of us when you’re in position. We’ll coordinate our attacks. Molly and I will take the front with Jester.” Fjord paused for a moment, glancing over at Trent and Caleb. He wasn’t confident with giving direction to Trent, something told him that wouldn’t work out too well.

Trent spoke up when Fjord looked at him. “I will observe, seeing as the point is determining how _he_ performs, not I.”

Caleb shifted forward slightly when Fjord continued to stare at them in silence, the half-orc’s expression stony and calculating. Whatever Fjord’s thoughts, Caleb worried the challenging look the man was directing at Trent would spark another confrontation if not redirected. “What would you have me do?”

Slowly, Fjord’s gaze turned to him and he frowned as he replied. “Flank around with Yasha.”

Caleb nodded in acquiescence, abandoning his position by Trent’s side and moving to join Yasha. The nervousness and anxiety were sliding to the further corner of his mind, a cold numbness taking over in preparation for the upcoming fight. He was aware of Beauregard watching him, calculating and fierce. She paused to whisper something to Fjord before she and Nott broke away from the rest of them to get into position.

Caleb followed Yasha with little thought, Fjord and Molly a few steps ahead of them. Jester was trailing for a moment, fiddling with a symbol of some sort hanging on a necklace, but then skipped quickly ahead to catch up with them. Quickly, in preparation of the battle, Caleb cast Mage Armor on himself, tucking the piece of leather away once he was done.

They slowed as they drew closer, waiting for the signal from Nott. After a minute, Fjord held up his hand, eyes distant as if listening to something. “Give us thirty seconds, then we attack.” He gave a motion to Yasha and Caleb, directing them to get in position.

Keeping low, Yasha and Caleb moved to the right flank of the camp. Caleb was not sure if there was a pre-agreed upon signal, something not expressed because it was so innate to the group at this point. Fjord had said thirty seconds, Caleb having begun counting them down in his own mind as he and Yasha broke away.

The silent countdown had reached zero and beyond without any moment. Caleb had a moment to begin looking to Yasha for direction, before a loud explosion rocked the stillness of the forest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I hope you guys appreciate how much work went into this fight… I mean… I probably over-complicated it, and over detailed it but... It was kinda fun. And with everything shut down, I had the time.... so....
> 
> Also, I’m usually pretty crap at writing fight scenes, so I really really REALLY tried with this one.)

“Fjord says give them about thirty seconds, then we’ll attack.” Nott whispered to Beau.

The monk didn’t answer verbally, just nodded her head and cracked her knuckles, peering through the underbrush toward where the camp was located.

“We could start a diversion by blowing up the supply wagon.” Nott suggested, already digging in her pack for the explosive arrow she had been itching to try out for a while now.

“As cool as that would be, Nott, I don’t think this is really-“

“It’ll be fine, Beau.” Nott dismissed, already loading special bolt into her crossbow.

“Look I know you and Jester were really disappointed about not being able to use that utter-nut…thing-“

“Fluffernutter.” Nott hissed.

“Whatever, but-“

Their argument was cut short by a snuffling sound, both of them going quiet and ducking down as the massive form of the larger dire wolf began moving in their direction.   
Beau glared at Nott and Nott glared at Beau, having a silent argument with each other as to whose fault this was, until the beast let out a growl. “Fuck! Fine, blow it up!” Beau snapped, forgoing any semblance of stealth now that the beast had caught their scent and would soon give away their position.

The monk darted forward, throwing two quick punches into the wolf, catching it in the throat just as it had started to lift its head to howl. A short choking sound was all that came out, the beast paralyzed by the pain for a few seconds. It was long enough for Nott to dart around it, aiming her crossbow and firing at the wagon in the camp.

Much to Nott’s delight, the explosive arrow worked extremely well. With a satisfyingly low ‘BANG’ the arrow went off, the concussive force rending half the wagon into pieces, the rest of the cart falling on it’s side in the dirt. Unfortunately, none of the wolves or humans were close enough to the blast to be damaged. The bandits were near the center of the camp, one standing over the fire from where he had begun to put it out, the other now starting to stand as they both looked in the direction of the explosion.

With the wagon erupted into flames, Nott darted around Beau where the monk was engaged with a Dire Wolf. She noted with some relief that the beasts appeared to be tethered to large wooden stakes in the ground. Even if only by a thick cord of rope. Unfortunately, the fire seemed to have spread, and it would only be a matter of time before they were free.

She saw Caleb and Yasha emerging from the brush to their right, the barbarian woman a blur of feral rage.

Jester, Molly, and Fjord were emerging from the other side of the camp, heading toward the bandits at the center.

Both of the human bandits were taking by surprise, each of them fumbling for their weapons as they stood to face their attackers.

Nott fired a second arrow at the wolf that was turning its attention to Yasha, the creature snarling with rage as the bolt sunk into the thick muscle of its shoulder. Reloading her crossbow, she continued to move around her allies, trying to get a shot at the bandits.

Fjord threw two arcs of Eldrich energy at the bandit with the crossbow, one going glancing off the man's shoulder pad and the other striking him in the chest. He summoned his Falchion to his hand, the light spray of seawater at its appearance scattering behind him as he charged forward.

Jester was a few feet behind and to the left of him. As she ran forward, the image of her shimmered with light green, then a second Jester appeared bridging the gap between them and the other group. With a quick flourish of her wrist, Jester also summoned her spiritual weapon, a giant lollypop that appeared over the gathering of wolves. She brought it down over the head of the one Nott had already shot, causing the beast to stumble and breaking the rope in the process.

Molly followed the two of them, placing himself between them on the battlefield as he ran the edge of his blade across his chest, activating the Rite and lighting it ablaze. Dashing forward, he was able to get nearly up to the bandits at the fire.

Caleb pulled a strip of licorice root from his bag of components, eyes on Yasha as she drew her blade and let out a cry of rage as she charged. He focused on the spell, releasing the arcane energy and fixing the incantation in his mind as the spell took hold. Her form seemed to blur as her speed increased dramatically, the female barbarian moving relentlessly towards the snarling wolves coming to intercept them.

The wolves were the first to react to the attack. The largest dire wolf was stunned for a moment, shaking its head and baring its teeth at Beau. A second wolf moved to attack Beau, snapping at her calves with its large fangs. Beau gave a grunt of pain as the beast cut a gash along her leg, but managed to move out of its grasp and avoid being thrown on the ground.

One of the other wolves lunged toward Yasha, striking at her torso as it leapt. She blocked the attack with one arm, standing firm and snarling back at the beast as a thin line of blood ran down her arm.  
The final wolf moved toward Jester's duplicate, the rope stopping the wolf from reaching her, but it pulled against the fraying cord anyway, jaws snapping.

Finding herself with two dire wolves nearly five feet from her, though the creature's attentions currently were not on her, Nott chose to dart between them, ducking one's attention and smoothing dodging the attack of the other. With some distance between them now, she turned around and loosed a crossbow bolt at the larger one attacking Beau. Her bolt caught the beast at the base of its neck, causing it to rear up in pain, howling.

Caleb turned his attention to the quickly developing chaos of the battlefield, already determining the most advantageous spell to caste. Beau was engaged with the largest wolf and one other, having distracted the rest of the pack from the small goblin cutting around behind her, though Nott had deftly slipped between the two in order to find a place (oddly enough) in the center of the camp.

There were two Jester’s on the field now, along with a large sparkling lollypop, the focus of which seemed to be on taking out the dire wolves. Caleb moved around behind Yasha, following Nott’s example and angling himself further from the wolves and closer to the other group of allies. He was well aware Master Ikithon would be watching, that these Mighty Nine would be mindful of his actions.

He lifted his hands, one palm facing flat up as he spoke the incantation, rotating his other hand above his palm as an orb of red emerged. As it spun, he looked up at the dire wolves, five streaks of read flashing from the orb toward the wolves. The two aimed toward the wolf engaged with Beau missed, striking the dirt on either side of the creature as it shifted in its attacks.

The two aimed at the wolf attacking Yasha hit their mark, almost lifting the creature off its feet with the force. The smell of burnt hair and blood filled the area, but the dire wolf kept to its feet, blood dripping from its wounds.

The final beam darted toward the wolf attempting to attack Jester, striking it in the shoulder and drawing its attention in his direction. Caleb grimaced, shifting his position closer. They would eventually converge on the human bandits and he followed the group as he knew was expected. Later he would worry over the first missed strikes, but for now he prepared to cast the spell again, continuing to maintain concentration on the Haste spell he had on Yasha.

The man with the cross bow cursed, wide eyes darting around at the group closing in from all sides. He fumbled for a moment, then raised his crossbow and fired at the source of the Eldrich energy that had struck him. The bolt cut through Fjord’s midrift, slicing an inch or so deep as it glanced off of his body. It wasn’t nearly enough to slow him down.

The warlock rushed forward, skirting around the fire to slash with his blade at the armored bandit, slashing at the man with enough strength to cleave off a chuck of the man’s breastplate. Another strike cut deep, blood splattering across the ground.

Fjord spared a moment to glance over at Caleb, watching the wizard throw bolts of arcane energy at the wolves and the bandits. Yasha was a blur of black and grey in front of the wizard and Fjord would hazard a guess that Caleb had something to do with that new development.

With the boost of speed from the Haste spell, Yasha swung her blade at the wolf in front of her, cleaving the barely standing wolf in two. She strode forward over to body of the slain beast, enraged eyes fixed on her next target.

Jester directed her duplicate to close the gap between it and the dire wolf that was now snarling in Caleb's direction. The image of Jester reached out, tapping the wolf on the nose as it cast Inflict wounds. The skin visibly from where the fur had been burned away from Caleb’s attack pulsed, greying as blackish lines spiderwebed across the skin. The original Jester dashed forward to stand beside Molly, a determined smile on her face.

Beau unleashed a flurry of punches against the large wolf in front of her, determined to take it down before it had a chance to strike with its packmember to help. Her first strike landed, cracking ribs, two more glancing of the boney protrusions on the beast. With a cry of rage, Beau kneed the beast in the jaw, reaching forward to grab its head and twist, the dire wolf dropping limply in front of her.

One wolf dispatched, Beau dashed after the other that had turned to follow Yasha, Caleb, and Nott into the center of the camp. Between herself and Yasha, the third wolf was soon laying broken and dead on the ground. The fourth and final wolf wasn’t looking any better facing off with Jester and Nott, the others closing int.

Fjord grinned, blade held defensively as he watched the bandit in front of him, waiting for his counter-attack. So far, this was following according to plan well (ignoring the explosive start thanks to Nott). Most of the Mighty Nine had focused their attention on the wolves. Killing the beasts had been the point and it was easier done when they didn’t have the range of movement thanks to being tied.

The other bandit with the crossbow was annoying, but given Nott’s returned fire and Beau’s determined gaze, Fjord doubted he would be standing much longer. A point proven correct as Fjord was able to dismiss him entirely as a barrage of magic missiles slammed into the bandit’s chest, lifting him off his feet as one of Nott’s bolts found its way into his throat.

If this was all these bandits had to offer, this would be over quick and easy.

Of course, it was about that time that everything when completely sideways.

Nott’s count of the bandits had not included a third that was now stumbling out of the tent, hands waving in an odd motion. For a moment Fjord was unconcerned, the man held no weapon and appeared to be panicked. Until he proved that he was (apparently) a mage, a fact he demonstrated immediately by shouting an incantation as he pointed a finger where the majority of the group had moved closer together.

Caleb’s eyes widened as a small bead of red light formed on the man’s hand. He cursed, attempting to caste a counterspell, but underestimated the strength the sorcerer put into the casting. His attempt had no effect as the light flew toward them, exploding in a ball of fire.


	7. Chapter 7

The wave of heat and energy sent them all flying, Caleb tumbling and rolling before coming to a stop. He slowly pushed himself upright, panting on his knees as his ears rang. When he lifted his head, Nott was unconscious, Jester kneeling next to the goblin with glowing hands.

The bodies of wolves had been scattered into ashes, Yasha picking her blade up from the creatures remains and turning to snarl towards the bandit. She made no movement towards them, however, merely standing still as her breath came in long heaves as lethargy seized her muscles. The abrupt end of the haste spell forcing her to take a moment to recover.

Molly was helping Fjord stand, apparently less affected by the flames than the others. “Beau! They’ve got a mage!” He barked, dragging Fjord up and igniting his second blade with the Rite. Beau appeared to have fared even better than himself at withstanding the blast, the monk already on her feet.

“I can fucking see that!” She snapped back, already charging toward the man.

The mage turned to face her, hand lifting a thin wooden stick. A thin blue ray streak from the tip, swirling in the air and striking Beau. Molly snarled in frustration as Beauregard came to a sudden halt, leaving his place by Fjord’s side to shout curses in Infernal toward the opposing sorcerer in a hellish tone.

The wizard flinched as flames licked up his torso, stumbling back as he barely managed to avoid Molly’s flaming blade. The bloodhunter’s second strike flashed across the man’s shoulder, small ice shards erupting from the gash. The mage retaliated by stretching forward a hand toward Molly, lightening sparkling in his palm as she shouted a word.

Molly yelled in pain as the electricity coursed through him, a wave of concussive force sent him flying backwards as a thunderous boom caused his ears to ring. The breath was knocked out of him for a moment as he landed heavily on his back. Wincing, Mollymauk sat upright. What the hell were bandits doing with this kind of firepower?

The enemy mage’s attention turned toward where Jester was attempting to bring Nott back to consciousness. He scraped some remaining ice crystals and blood from his wound, rolling them in his hand as he began casting, arcane energy swirling around his palms. His eyes locked on the blue Tiefling, muttering under his breath as he began striding towards her.

Caleb forced himself to his feet, wavering slightly as he took one step forward, then another, bringing the other mage within range. He had spent too much energy, too many spells trying to prove his worth to the Mighty Nine, he didn’t trust trying to counter the spell this mage was weaving. It was too risky he would fail and have expended the energy in vain. His gaze locked upon the enemy, vision almost too focused on the other man. He could end this now.

It was overkill, then spell far more powerful than necessary to deal with the lone remaining bandit. Yet Master Ikithon was watching, had ordered him to gain the trust and prove his loyalty to these new masters. They had brought him here to test his abilities and Trent expected him to display the might of the Assembly. In any case, it was likely a more merciful death than the rogue mage would get should the Assembly find him.

Mechanically, Caleb reached into his pouch of components, eyes dull as he watched the man move toward Jester with a snarl. His focus never wavered as he muttered the spell, crouching down to place both hands upon the cool earth beneath him as he thrust the majority of his remaining arcane energy into the caste. The bandit was lifting his hand, mouth moving though Caleb could not hear the words through the static in his own ears. The opposing sorcerer was heedless of the spiderweb veins of orange that slithered along the ground from Caleb's palms to converge on him, noticing too late when they began exploding under his feet.

In a roar of heat and light, the man screamed shrilly as he was engulfed in flames as Widogast’s web of fire enveloped him. Caleb slowly stood from where he had crouched to caste the spell, the smell of scorched flesh and screams rooting him to the spot. He took in quick ragged breaths, eyes going distant.

In the flickering orange and red he no longer saw the body of the man, but a house. Whispers of blasphemous words, traitors and betrayal. Trent's voice telling him what he had to do, loyalty to the Empire. But it was wrong, wrong and lie, but they still burned. They burned and they screamed. Screaming and smoking, dead from his hands. His own fam-

A sharp _crack_ and stinging pain to his cheek bought Caleb out of the flashes of memory and fog, his body taking an automatic step back as he moved his face away from the blow. His eyes slowly focused upon the responsible individual, Mollymauk, standing in front of him. Caleb tensed in anticipation, not hearing Mollymauk’s words, nails digging into his palms as he fought back the onslaught of memories (don’t ignore me boy) and focused himself on the present.

Having seemingly gotten his point across for the time being, Mollymauk had turned and begun moving toward the rest of the group. Caleb followed automatically, sight and scent of the surroundings anchoring him in the here and now as he took in a shuddered breath. The stern gaze of the purple Tiefling lingered in his mind’s eye, something unidentifiable lingering underneath the way the Bloodhunter had been looking at him.

Luckily, that had been the final standing opponent. The wolves were broken corpses littering the camp, the other humans lay unmoving on the forest floor. Caleb did not trust himself to face the one he had killed; too afraid he would lose himself again.

~~

Fjord banished his falchion as he surveyed the smoking battlefield, a deep frown on his face. For once, he couldn’t blame any of themselves on how spectacularly wrong this ‘simply’ mission had gone. He turned his attention to his friends, eyes lingering on each to assure himself they were alright.

Jester was helping Nott up, the goblin cursing but standing once again. Jester looked a little worse for wear herself, but she was more focused on healing her companions rather than herself, so he guessed she wasn’t too bad off. Fjord was beginning to regret having left Caduceus behind; another healer would be pretty nice right now.

Beau was already rifling through the remains of the enemy mage, presumably trying to find some sort of identification or some clue where he had come from. Given the smoke still rising from the corpse, Fjord didn’t think her odds were that great. He had to give it to the archmage… Caleb had done a thorough job taking down the enemy. Ruthless and efficient, much as he remembered any battle against an Empire mage being during the war.

He looked around in search of said wizard, finding him trailing along behind Molly as the bloodhunter headed towards the rest of the group. There was something off about Caleb’s expression, and Molly was giving Fjord an odd look as well. The warlock sighed, mentally adding one more thing to deal with once this little excursion was over.

“Molly. See if you can find any identification on those two.” Fjord called out to the Tiefling, nodding his head toward the other two bandits.

“Just so you know, our plans don’t usually go so poorly.” Nott commented to Caleb, picking bits of charred debris from her clothing as she walked to stand next to the archmage.

“Oh, ah… Of course.” Caleb agreed tiredly, tone somewhat numb.

“Sure they don’t.” Molly quipped absently, using one of his blades to lift the corner of the crossbow bandit’s vest as he began searching him.

Fjord scoffed as well, wanting to roll his eyes. “Nott, why don’t you go check the tents. Make sure there are no traps before you search them.”

“Does anyone _else_ need healing?” Jester called out, one hand on her own chest as a blue energy glowed, the blackened skin on her shoulder flaking off to reveal healthy blue underneath.

Fjord looked around at the others, but no one spoke up. Caleb looked like crap, but he was standing and not saying anything, so Fjord turned back to Jester. “I think we’re alright for the time being, Jester.”

“Good!” Jester breathed with sigh. “Cuz I don’t have any more healing spells anyway.”

This time Fjord _did_ roll his eyes.

Caleb cast a covert glance at the Mollymauk, but the Tiefling hadn’t even looked at him again. Beau, Fjord, and now Nott were all busy investigating the camp. Jester was checking on Yasha, who appeared to simply be keeping watch as the others investigated. None had given him any instructions, so Caleb stood awkwardly where Molly had left him.

The burns from the fireball stung, but Caleb ignored the sensation. He should not have failed in that counter-spell, it was inexcusable. He rubbed his forearms, feeling the bandages hidden underneath his long sleeves, feeling phantom pain from the scars concealed underneath. Reminders of other past failures. He stopped, looking up at Yasha as she stepped up beside him. A quick glance around showed Jester had joined Beau while he’d been distracted with his thoughts.

Caleb flushed slightly, grateful Yasha had not taken exception to his inattentiveness like Molly had.

“What was that you did? Before the battle?” Yasha questioned.

“That, ah, was a Haste spell. It increases the speed of the target.” Caleb explained, looking up to meet her gaze before glancing away. “I apologize, I should have asked…”

“It is alright.” Yasha dismissed the apology with a shrug. “It is a very nice spell.”

“Ah… thank you?” He couldn’t stop the questioning note in his voice, gaze following Yasha as she walked away toward the rest of the group. He watched them all, trying to piece together the mixed behavior he had observed from them.

He moved forward to join them, though their discussion ended as he approached.

“C’mon, let’s get back to town.” Fjord growled.

Molly moved over to Caleb, slinging an arm around him and pulling him into the center of the group as they started heading east out of the camp. Caleb looked over at the bloodhunter for instruction, but Mollymauk just gave him a half grin and released him, shifting into his own apparently predetermined position in the lineup.

Nott and Jester were the only ones to speak as the group walked, discussing the explosive arrow that Nott had used. Fjord and Molly let the way, Caleb behind them, with Beau and Yasha at the rear. Beauregard had her staff slung over her shoulders, letting the wooden bow support her arms as she kept an eye on the archmage in the center of the group.

The moment of blank distance Caleb had displayed after incinerating the enemy mage hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, and she was suspicious just why he had reacted that way. Molly had handled it, snapping Caleb out of whatever mindset he’d drifted off into, and for now Beau would be content to leave it that way. She did have to admit though, he’d been pretty useful in the fight.

Beau’s eyes narrowed as the lone discussion between Nott and Jester fell silent. Looking forward, past Fjord and Molly, she noticed Trent Ikithon waiting past the tree line some hundred or so feet ahead. Her attention was drawn back to Caleb, the wizard shifting to stand more upright when Trent came into view. Beau rolled her eyes, swinging her staff from her shoulders to carry it in one hand. Stupid wizards and their stupid hierarchical competitiveness. She could tell Caleb was tired, he’d thrown enough spells around, but here he was pretending to be perfectly fine to impress the competition.

Beau snorted, shaking her head and shoving past Caleb and the others when they stopped. Ignoring Trent, she continued on toward town, knowing the others would catch up eventually.

Fjord wanted to groan, he’d almost forgotten the Empire mage was waiting. He could only imagine how much less the man probably thought of them now, after watching that debacle of an ‘easy’ mission. It hadn’t exactly gone without a hitch. Beauregard’s blatant disrespect wasn’t surprising, but it made his life more difficult.

Trent stood with a cold expression; his hands folded behind his back as he regarded Fjord. He equally ignored the monk, focusing instead on the half-orc. When he spoke, his tone was neutral, almost polite.

“I trust you are satisfied?”


	8. Chapter 8

“Do we really have to travel all the way back right _now_?” Jester whined, slumping dramatically where she stood.

The journey back to town had been quiet, Fjord’s sullen, annoyed ‘yes’ to Trent’s question being the last words spoken. Up until now.

Fjord let out a sigh, stopping from where he had been about to go collect the horses for the journey. He turned to face the blue Tiefling, running a hand down his face in exasperation. “Jester, if we leave now, we can be back home not long after nightfall.”

“But Fjord, everyone is exhausted.” Jester complained. “Do you _really_ want to ride for three hours?”

“We could always stay here.” Beau suggested, a slight smirk making its way onto her face as she cast a sneaky glance at the two mages. She could tell by Trent’s snobbish behavior so far, that he would _despise_ staying in a place like this. It would be hilarious.

“Would they even have enough rooms for us?” Fjord questioned, trying to find some way out of this. With Jester and Beau teaming up, and Nott already inching closer to the tavern doors, the idea of being home tonight was looking like a lost cause.

“If we stay here, we don’t have to let _him_ stay at our place.” Beau muttered, thankfully in a voice quiet enough neither Trent nor Caleb could hear.

Fjord gave her a frustrated glare, but he supposed she had a point. He knew she meant Trent, Beau had added a pointed looked at the older mage with her statement. It would be useless to have that attitude about Caleb, seeing as he was going to be living with them going forward anyway.

Molly chose that time to come up, leaning an elbow on Beau’s shoulder as he gave Fjord a fanged grin. “Might as well just give it up, Fjord. Looks like you’re outnumbered. I’ll just go secure us some rooms, how bout?”

“There is no need to stay at this… _inn_.” Trent interrupted the group’s discussion, casting a disgusted look at the building in question. He spread a hand toward Caleb as he spoke next. “If you insist on remaining here, he will provide a place in which to rest.”

Trent’s objection was of no surprise to anyone, but his proposed solution to the issue was unexpected. Still, his suggestion was enough to have all of them staring at him.

Fjord was the one to step forward, one eyebrow rising in surprise as he fought to keep his tone neutral. “And how is he supposed to do that, exactly?” He was starting to truly understand why Beau had such an issue with the Cerberus Assembly, if guys like Trent were the ones leading it.

“Caleb.” Trent said stonily, eyes cutting sharply over to where the wizard stood wavering slightly on his feet. The wizard’s gaze suddenly clarified when Trent spoke his name, previous exhausted look vanishing as his body tensed in a not quite flinch.

Caleb nodded automatically, slowly reaching into his components back and retrieving the required items. He was exhausted but had anticipated the request. Master Ikithon would not tolerate staying in a place such as the Inn here, nor would he desire to travel even the relatively short journey back to the Keep. Caleb had enough reserve energy to cast the mansion spell for the evening.

“It is an arcane mansion.” He explained to Fjord, accent significantly thicker in his exhaustion. “It will last for twenty-four hours, or until the spell is dismissed.”

“Oh, wow, Caleb.” Jester commented, coming over to watch him over his shoulder. “That’s really cool! Will we all fit in there?”

Caleb nodded, busy with the incantation and motions required to cast the spell. A minute later and the doorway appeared, a shimmering flat opening near the corner of the tavern/inn they stood next to.

He shifted his gaze over the members of the Mighty Nine, not quite meeting any of their gazes. “Please, make yourselves at home. There are rooms for you to choose from, and a dining area. The servants will bring you whatever you wish.”

During the short explanation, Trent had already entered the mansion and Caleb followed him inside after bowing his head respectfully at the rest of the group.

Fjord shared a look with Beau, the human rolling her eyes as she slung her staff over her shoulder. “Of course, there are servants, typical.” She snarked, lips tugged into a slight frown.

“Who am I to pass up a free meal and a bed to sleep on.” Molly said with a shrug. “C’mon Yash.”

He and Yasha walked into the shimmering doorway, Nott and Jester trailing after.

“Do you think they’ve got booze in this place?” Nott questioned, eyeing the doorway dubiously.

“Probably taste like shit.” Beau commented, also following them inside.

Trent was nowhere in sight when the group entered, though Caleb waited for them in the magnificent foyer, the atmosphere warm and clean. Several doors lined the walls, ethereal servants standing at the ready.

“Is there booze in this place?” Nott demanded, eyeing the servants suspiciously.

“Ah, yes, they will provide such if you wish. You need only ask it of them.” Caleb assented, then addressed the rest of them. “There are multiple rooms to choose from at your leisure. Unless you require anything further…” Caleb paused for a brief moment, continuing when none of them interrupted. “I will… see you all in the morning.”

The Mighty Nine watched as Caleb made a short bow, then turned and exited the foyer. They shared a look between each other, silence filling the room for a moment.

“Hey! You, servant people!” Nott broke the quiet, making her way to one of the see though people standing waiting. “Which way is the food?”

“Right this way.” The servant said, turning to lead the goblin toward the large set of double doors.

The rest of them followed, making their way to the dining hall. None of them were about to pass up the opportunity for free food. As well, it was as good a place as any to talk things over.

“Two things.” Fjord began once everyone had some food and were seated. “First, obviously, Caleb; second, why the fuck did some random bandits have a _mage_?”

It was one thing to find that over on the Dynasty side, they’d run into their fair share of magic users when going on missions or forays into Xhorhas. But for the Empire, it was almost unheard of, especially when the mage was strong enough to cast the spells that he had.

“Caleb’s fine, I guess.” Beau offered, tilting her cup to and fro, watching the liquid slosh around. “Typical Assembly wizard, but less irritating that Trent.”

“He seems alright to me.” Yasha added.

“He did _really_ well in the battle.” Jester said, leaning forward and propping her chin on her hands. “And even though we have to let him stay because of that letter, I think he is O.K.”

“You think old Iky will take this little development with the rogue mage back to Rexxentrum and look into it?” Molly asked, red eyes shifting over to Beau.

Beauregard snickered at the Tiefling’s nickname for Trent but shook her head. “Probably not. From what I know of their MO, the rogue mage is dead and that’s what really matters to them. And even if they did look into it, it’s not like they’ll tell us a damn thing.”

“It’s still really strange though.” Nott told them, crossing her arms. “If it were in the Dynasty, it wouldn’t be so odd. There’s plenty of magic users there, but the Empire doesn’t let them operate outside the Assembly.”

“Which begs the question again. Why did these bandits have a mage with them?” Molly repeated Fjords questions.

“If he was so close to the pass, do you think he may have been attempting to cross to the Dynasty?” Yasha suggested.

“If he was, there might be someone on that side of the pass that was expecting him.” Fjord replied. “Think you can find anything out? You know some people across the Bloodwalk, right?”

Yasha nodded solemnly. “Yes. I will ask around.”

“It is a bit strange though. Ikithon didn’t even make an appearance when he saw the rogue mage.” Fjord mused.

“Yeah, and Caleb torched him well enough it’d be hard to identify him.” Beau grumbled.

“Think there might be some connection there?” Molly asked with a frown.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Fjord signed, running a hand down his face. He was just as tired as the rest of them. “To keep the peace agreement, Caleb’s going to be joining our number, so I don’t see any reason to make assumptions.”

“Maybe not with Caleb.” Beau acquiesced; she hadn’t really gotten a fully rounded impression on him. Ikithon she blatantly distrusted and disliked. “But Trent? Wouldn’t put it past him.”

~~

Caleb entered his room, closing the door behind him and walking to the center. He wished he could summon Frumpkin. He had been replaying the battle in his mind since stepping into the mansion, the mighty nine having a whole arcane building to explore and so Caleb felt less need to be attentive to trying to anticipate their thoughts and actions. Instead, he now picked apart his own. Had he lived up to their expectations? Or would his lapses and failures (he had missed on his damned first attack) cause them to request a different mage from the Assembly?

He’d given them cause enough to doubt him, though he prayed he had done enough to negate that. Fjord _had_ said he was satisfied when Trent had asked…

Caleb turned as the door opened with no warning, Trent striding casually inside and closing the door behind him. Caleb stood at attention, arms respectfully clasped behind his back, gaze fixing blankly over his master’s shoulder as he waited. He knew what was expected and what would follow, his thoughts falling into a quiet line as he focused on not moving (flinching was a weakness, intolerable) as Trent strode over to inspect him.

“Well at least they know how to handle you.” Trent spoke, reaching out to grip Caleb’s chin and turn his face to look at the area Mollymauk had struck him. Caleb knew from experience the blow had been sound more than anything else and would not have left a bruise. Trent’s eyes narrowed as his grip tightened. “Pathetic performance. You embarrass not only the Cerberus Assembly but, more importantly, myself.”

The air felt thick to Caleb with the tension of Trent’s anger, the scalding burn of the man’s disappointed look. A flush crept up his neck as his master dropped his hold, remaining in place with his arms crossed expectantly. It was a force of will not to tremble, Caleb’s hands tightening painfully where they were clasp behind his back, the threatening proximity of Trent tightening his throat with panic.

“My apologies for disappointing you, master.” Caleb forced the words past his wooden tongue.

“At least they seemed pleased by the rest of your capabilities.” Trent snarled, tossing a glower at Caleb. He had followed the orders of the members of the Mighty Nine throughout the battle (few as they had been), though had been given little opportunity to repair any damage he may have done with his slip up in the aftermath. The silence had been too heavy on the way back to town, he had not dared break it.

Caleb flushed, eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment. He righted his expression and gaze at the displeased sound from Trent, back straightening minutely as he concentrated on breathing evenly, waiting for further questions or orders.

“Mighty Nine…” Trent muttered, arms folded as he paced slightly, confident of their privacy within the mansion. “As if there is anything mighty about them. Hardly. They’ve proven their ability to battle, perhaps, but mercenaries are a copper a dozen. And this group doesn’t even have the intelligence to know their number is only seven. At least their idiocy is useful to me…”

Caleb knew better than to suggest to Trent his thoughts on that subject. His opinion was not warranted nor asked for. Mentioning his native tongue would only serve to incite his master’s wrath, something he had so far managed to avoid today. If just barely.

“Your orders remain the same. So far, they appear pleased with you, even the bitch from the Cobalt Soul.” Trent continued, voice transitioning from muttered rant to a tone that held more authority. “Do not embarrass the Assembly again. Failure is inexcusable. Obey them, gain their trust. They must believe that you are loyal to them.”

Caleb inclined his head in a short bow. “Yes, Master, I understand.”

“You will transport me to Rexxentrum in the morning. I have no desire to remain with these barbarians any longer than necessary. The audacity, forcing me to ride on horseback like a commoner.”

Trent was ranting again, voice never rising louder than a smooth calm note. Caleb would like little more than to rest. Though the travel to and from the forest had not been long, and the battle had not been the fiercest he had seen, Caleb had put forth far more energy into the fight than perhaps had been necessary. His arsenal of spells was all but depleted and he longed for sleep.

Yet, Master Trent demanded his presence and attention. He filed away the demand to have the teleportation spell available to Master Ikithon in the morning, but otherwise let the man’s words wash over him.

Caleb wondered if the others would adopt such a habit. He may not mind so much listening to Fjord, or perhaps even Mollymauk, speaking. Besides simply being a new voice to listen to, they would, perhaps, be less venomous in their rhetoric. Although, he would did not believe he would much care for the process of learning their preferences and the cost of not measuring up to their standards. Trent, at least, he knew the signs of the man’s temper rising.

“I trust I need not remind you of your orders, and the consequences of failure?” Trent snapped at him, having tired of hearing himself speak apparently.

“ _Nein_ , I –“ Caleb began, jaws snapping shut as Trent’s face twisted with rage. He realized his mistake far too late, only managing to contain the automatic flinch that would only make things _worse_ as Trent closed the distance between them.

Expecting it didn’t make the pain any less, nor the shame at having to be corrected over a rule he had learned long ago. Once again, his face stung with pain, this time more intensely so, as Trent backhanded him viciously. Trent did not speak, did not need to, Caleb knew what rule he had broken.

This blow, while more painful than the one he had received from Mollymauk, he knew would likewise leave no visible bruising. Facing forward again, Caleb attempting to control the small shaking in his body, heart racing as he hoped Trent would not take his outburst as a form of rebellion. “Apologies, master.”

“Do not forget your place, boy.” Trent snapped. After a moment his eyes softened into something almost paternal if not for the sharp canine quality to the shape of his grin. “You are within the Empire now, it does you no good to remind others of your Zemnian roots. It will only breed mistrust.”

Caleb’s heartbeat slowed somewhat, still a too fast thudding in his chest, but no longer the panicked racing now that it appeared Trent was satisfied with the correction doled out. “Of course, Master. Thank you.” He dutifully spoke, only relaxing fully when Trent turned away to leave.

Caleb allowed himself to relax once the door to the chamber had closed behind Trent, muscles shaking at the sudden influx of adrenaline. He sat on the bed, leaning forward with his face in his hands as he just breathed, willing the panic away but too afraid to summon Frumpkin this time to help.


	9. Chapter 9

Caleb got very little sleep that night. Enough to recover the arcane energy within him, but when he sat up that morning, he felt haggard. His dreams had been haunted by flames, the details of which slipped like sifted sand from his memory, and his waking thoughts by Trent’s disappointed disapproval. The day’s previous failures still stung and a part of him expected Trent to collect him for the consequences of such weakness.

His hands traced over the bandages around his forearms, fingers trembling slightly. He did not need to worry about _that_ , because Trent would be leaving, and Caleb would belong to the Mighty Nine. He had mixed opinions on them, though they all filled him with a tight anxiety.

Caduceus and Yasha, though he hardly knew them, seemed likable enough. Undemanding and difficult to anger. Even Yasha, despite her appearance. Though Caleb knew better than most not to judge on outward looks. Trent could be most vicious when his voice took on that gentle tone, his method of teaching harsh, but it got the point across.

Fjord and Nott were a mystery still. Fjord’s tone had held a familiar political note during most discussions, though given he had been negotiating with Trent and evaluating his new archmage, Caleb understood the reason. However, it gave him little insight into the man’s personality or preference.

He had yet to fully speak with Nott, or Jester for that matter. The cleric was outgoing enough he could surmise her personality and Caleb, hesitantly, liked her. It was refreshing to meet someone so open after his life lived at the Assembly, where everyone had an ulterior motive.

Mollymauk was intimidating, though Caleb did not think he was unduly cruel. He most reminded him of Trent. The bloodhunter had expectations and rules (presumably) and would deal out corrections when they were not met or followed. It was something normal, familiar, to Caleb. It felt… odd to apply the mentality to Mollymauk, the Tiefling had been friendly and even playful on occasion, yet Caleb gravitated towards _anything_ familiar in this sea of uncertainty.

For all Beauregard were the only other human, the only other from the Empire, Caleb was most wary of her. Thankfully, she was easy to read most times, the monk caring little to hide her opinion of others.

Caleb rubbed his hands together nervously, standing to his feet and casting prestidigitation. He focused on the simple cantrip as he let the minor arcane energy flow from his hands, trying to calm his anxiety. It didn’t work, though he did not have the time to summon Frumpkin to help alleviate the problem.

He left his room, pausing to address one of the ethereal servants in the mansion’s corridor. “If the others have not, ah, left; please inform them that I will need to dismiss the mansion soon.”

It felt cowardly ( _weak_ ) to send the ghostly servant to wake and/or inform the Mighty Nine of his need to dismiss the spell. Not that he really _needed_ to dismiss the mansion. Only this group of individuals could enter, as those had been the one’s granted permission in his casting. However, Trent would soon be ready to return to Rexxentrum and Caleb would not ingratiate himself to the Mighty Nine by assisting Trent in insulting them by leaving with no notice.

Surprisingly enough, most of the Mighty Nine were already awake and outside of the mansion. Caleb forwent his normal duty of waiting for Master Ikithon, instead leaving the mansion to be met with Beauregard and Fjord in the middle of some… workout routine of some fashion. Near the porch of the inn stood Yasha and Nott, in a heated (for Nott at least) and quiet discussion.

“Caleb! Good morning.” Fjord greeted him, fleeing from Beau’s scowl as he abandoned the early morning routine.

Caleb turned his attention to the warlock as he approached, folding his hands behind his back as he stood respectfully to return the greeting. “Good morning, Fjord.” He was nervous, unsure how to act, what was expected. “Ah, how may I be of assistance?”

Fjord hesitated, brow furrowing in confusion at the offer. “What? No..I don’t need anything.” He replied slowly, then shook his head and started again. “No, we’re just waiting on the others. Yasha’s going to- well, she’s got some people to speak with over the Bloodwalk.”

Caleb wondered at Fjord’s cryptic explanation, but he thought perhaps he had the same strategic division of information as Trent practiced. It was good strategy in keeping sensitive information secret. Caleb was hardly a full member of the group, it made sense he would not be told things.

For a moment they stood there awkwardly, neither really knowing what to say. Fjord didn’t seem to want anything from him, so Caleb wasn’t even sure why the man had approached him, nor did he seem like he cared just to have a captive audience to speak to.

Caleb extracted himself from the non-conversation with quiet “excuse me” once he saw Trent exit the mansion, hopefully not causing any offense to Fjord in the process. The half-orc noticed his shift in attention, frowning and turning to make his way over to Trent. Molly and Jester were a few steps behind the older mage leaving the mansion, both looking unhappy and _very_ annoyed. Caleb cringed to think what had transpired between the trio to have put the otherwise laid back Tieflings in such a mood. Once Trent left, it would be him taking the brunt of that annoyance…

Not waiting for an order from Master Ikithon, Caleb pulled his chalk from his component’s bag, crouching down and beginning to draw the necessary symbols. He dismissed the discussion of travel arrangements beyond tracking the movements of the group. Molly was walking away, either having volunteered or been sent to fetch the horses.

“Nott, you’ll need to ride double with someone, there’s not enough-“ Fjord was explaining, before being interrupted.

“There will be no need.” Trent stated, almost imperialistically. “I will be returning to Rexxentrum now. Inform the driver he is to return to Rexxentrum with my belongings. Caleb will remain with you.”

Caleb’s hand hesitated slightly hearing Trent speak his name. He glanced over at Trent, but Ikithon had not been addressing him. He refocused himself on the effort before he lost his hold on the arcane web he was weaving, and before Ikithon or the others could notice his laps in attentiveness to his task.

Caleb completed the circle with the final sigil, feeling the arcane energy light the chalk with a white light. The circle glowed brightly as Trent stepped forward and vanished into the light with no parting words to the others. Six seconds later and the circle dimmed, the chalk he had used to draw it burned and sifting out of place in the soft wind.

“Huh. That’s a neat trick.”

Caleb jerked at the sudden words, flushing as he looked up in surprise at Beauregard. He had not noticed her approach so close. This was the first time she had spoken to him, and the only time he’d heard her speak anything that did not sound like she wanted to punch someone. An observation that filled him with relief given he was the only one in proximity for the punching. “Ah, thank you, Beauregard.”

“Can you do it again. Get us back to the Keep faster?” Beau asked.

Caleb stood from where he had still been crouched by the now faded and vanished circle. “I am sorry, but I cannot. The destination is determined by the circle drawn, a matching one must be at the receiving end.” He explained carefully, painfully aware the others had drifted away to prepare for their departure. He was unsure how to interpret Beauregard’s sudden interest in conversing with him. He did not think it reflected well that he could not perform her first request of him.

“Huh. Too bad, woulda been useful.” Beau shrugged, glancing over to where Jester was humming merrily to herself. She turned to join the others, waving a hand over her shoulder with a parting comment.

“Welcome to the Mighty Nine, I guess.”

Oddly, the sentiment was comforting.

~~

The journey back to the Keep, though Caleb thought perhaps he should think of the place as home now, was not the same quiet and tense journey to Gandre. Caleb was tense; even with the rest of the Mighty Nine relaxed and at ease he felt anxious and out of place. Trent hadn’t exactly been a bridge before, but he had been a buffer of familiarity.

Yasha was absent as Fjord had said she would be, Nott rode along side Fjord still arguing that she should have gone with her. It continued on for nearly half an hour before Mollymauk decided to interrupt.

“Yasha wanted to go on her own. It’s her thing.” Molly called out to the goblin bluntly, aiming the last sentence at a more level volume to Caleb.

Judging by the bloodhunter’s exasperated expression, he had apparently tired of the ongoing conversation. The Tiefling had been riding beside Caleb since they had left Gandre, mostly ignoring everything around him until now.

“This happens often?” Caleb asked quietly to Mollymauk, now that the Tiefling had opened a discussion (of sorts) with him.

“The arguing or Yasha wandering off?” Molly responded with his own question.

“Ah, both, I suppose?” Caleb replied, fumbling with his words for a moment. He tensed for a moment, but Mollymauk either did not care or did not notice the slip.

“Yasha does her own thing, always has ever since I’ve known her. You just get used to it. The arguing?” Molly shrugged, waggling his hand in the air. “Eh. I think at this point some of us just need to blow off steam.”

“Yasha is sooooo mysterious.” Jester laughed, giving a false spooky tone to her voice as she spoke. She moved around to Caleb’s other side, grinning at him.

Caleb wasn’t entirely sure how to feel being so surrounded by the Tieflings, though they seemed to have no ill intentions currently. He still remembered their earlier annoyance with Trent, though they seemed to have gotten over it, or at least did not feel the need to express it towards him. “Yes, she does appear to have that quality.” He agreed politely, trying to calm his nerves.

“How did you send me a message earlier Caleb, have we met before?” Jester asked with a complete and abrupt shift of topic.

“Oh, ah…” Caleb floundered for a moment, caught off guard. “No, we have not. Fjord gave himself your appearance and that was sufficient for the requirements of the spell.” He explained.

“OHHH, that’s pretty cool, good job Fjord!” She cheered, giving the half-orc in question a thumbs up when he looked back at them.

“Yes, thank you Jester, and speaking of messages. Will one of you send one to Caduceus? No need for him to send out a search party because we stayed the night in Gandre.” Fjord said with a laugh.

Caleb glanced over at Jester, but she just gave him a wide smile, not indicating at all whether she wished him to send the message. Deciding to err on the side of what he had always done (Trent did not like to waste his own time and talent on such meager spells), he looked back to Fjord for clarification. “What would you have me say?”

“What? I don’t know, just let him know we’re on our way back and everything’s fi-“

“Hey Caduceus!!” Jester’s words cut Fjord off, the warlock rolling his eyes and turning back to face forward again. Jester continued, cheerful and unconcerned. “We just want to let you know we’re all okay, Caleb was going to message you but he didn’t know what to say, but we’re on our way back and-“

She stopped suddenly, letting out a long sigh.

“She ran out of words again.” Molly stage whispered to Caleb. “Cad’s reply probably interrupted her.”

Caleb nodded in understanding but did not know what to say to that information, or if a reply was required at all. He turned his attention to Jester when the cleric spoke up again, voice loud enough to carry to the whole party. “Caduceus says he already had all the funerals and there are snacks and he’ll see us sooooooon!”

“Thanks, Jes!” Beau called out in monotone, not bothering to look in their direction.

“She’s joking, obviously.” Molly supplied helpfully, paying no attention as Nott launched into a description of how she’d prefer _her_ funeral to go. Beau caught up to Fjord and Nott, joining the debate on the perfect funeral.

Caleb nodded again at Mollymauk’s advice, trying to school his expression into something more neutral than looking like he’d just had a confusion spell cast on him. The group was definitely more lively than they had been on the previous journey.

“Yes. Obviously.” He agreed to Molly’s statement, giving an awkward, nervous smile to Jester when she turned her attention back to him.

Fjord half listened to the conversation going on behind him, Molly and Jester entertaining their newest member during the travel. Caleb didn’t say much, but Jester seemed determined to welcome the new mage by talking to him. At this rate, Caleb was going to know Jester’s whole life story by the time they got back home. As a way to break the ice, it was great; as a way to get to know the man better, it fell a bit short.

The archmage had so far been polite in answering or replying when either of them spoke to him, but he still seemed so standoffish. He was listening to Jester, but he never inquired further or voiced his own opinion on the conversation. Everyone else (mostly, Beau was still out there looking sulky, but that might not be attributed to Caleb) had relaxed, except for the new mage.

Fjord sighed, looking up at the grey clouds that had begun to overshadow the sky. Hopefully, the wizard would be less coldly distant over time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving this to you early in the day because... well, I'm bored... and I live for your comments. And I'm excited about this story and I just wanna share it with you wonderful people!!  
> To all you leaving comments, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU GIVE ME LIFE!!!!  
> To all the Kudos leavers, YOU WARM MY HEART YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!!

“Home, sweet home.” Molly commented to Caleb once the Keep was in sight, giving him a grin.

Caleb was not entirely sure he would apply the word ‘sweet’ to this place, or any for that matter, but he nodded agreement anyway.

“Hey Jester, race ya!” Molly shouted across to Jester before kicking his horse into a gallop.

“OH! Hey, no fair, Molly!” Jester yelled back, following his lead and urging her horse to race after him. Nott, of course, joined the game but she had been saddled with the carriage horse that had brought Caleb and Trent. The goblin didn’t have a chance at winning, or even catching up.

Caleb caught up to Fjord and Beau, though kept a respectful distance. Now that Jester and Molly had run ahead, it would have been awkward to remain further behind on his own. He did not need to add to the social distance between himself and these people.

“Oh, good. Some peace and quiet. That’ll last all of the five minutes it takes to get home.” Fjord commented wryly, though his lips formed a half smile on his face.

“They, ah, are an energetic lot.” Caleb offered, chuckling with a small smile. The laugh was nervous, the expression awkward, and the wizard too anxious to fully hide either.

Beauregard snorted humorlessly, the sound not filling Caleb with any sense of comfort or well-being. “Unlike some people, we don’t all have a stick up-“

“I think what Beau means to say, is yes. They are.” Fjord interrupted, a note of long-suffering irritation in his voice.

Caleb dropped his gaze to his horse’s mane, feeling a flush rise up the back of his neck. He glanced up at the sound of hooves speeding away, watching as Beauregard moved quickly ahead. He looked back down again as Fjord sighed, though the half-orcs words were calm and gentle when he spoke.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s… Well, I don’t really know how to explain her.” Fjord said, scratching his head as he gazed after Beau. He knew that if it had been anyone else making a statement like that about those three, Beau probably would have laughed and agreed. Not that he could explain that to Caleb without making it even more obvious Beau hadn’t really accepted him yet. The wizard was awkward enough as it was…

“Ah, no, it is… I did not mean to offend.” Caleb offered.

Fjord let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, if you’d offended her, you would know it.”

Caleb felt an icy prick of unease at the assurance, eyes moving to Beauregard in the distance. That did not sound promising.

“Come on, we might as well join them.” Fjord interrupted Caleb’s musing, kicking his own horse into a quick trot.

It took a moment for Caleb to force himself to obey, the irrational urge to just leave, _run_ , freezing his muscles. He tried to breath evenly, letting his fingers twine in the horse’s mane as he followed after Fjord. Cinnamon wasn’t his cat, wasn’t near as comforting as Frumpkin, but he would take anything he could at this point.

~~

Caduceus greeted him with a gently smile as Caleb arrived. “Welcome back, Caleb.”

“Thank you, Caduceus.” He returned, smiling nervously, tension still thrumming through his body. He dismounted from Cinnamon, obediently handing the reigns over when Caduceus held his hand out for them. The other members of the group were taking care of their own horses, Nott returning the borrowed one to Trent’s driver.

“I can take care of, ah, Cinnamon, if you wish?” Caleb offered, feeling awkward letting Caduceus take such a menial task on himself.

"Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all for me.” Caduceus told him with a gently smile. “Oh, by the way, I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of getting all your things settled in your new room."

"You, ah, you did not need to go to so much trouble, Caduceus." Caleb began, feeling the anxiety swirling in his stomach. He had brought few enough things, owned few enough, but the responsibility should have been his. He hadn’t been given time or opportunity to deal with it, but excuses did not make the failure any more acceptable. Before he could apologize, Caduceus spoke again.

"It was no trouble at all. Happy to help." The Firbolg looked past him, eyes scanning over the others. "Oh. But where is mister Trent? Nothing happened to him I hope?"

Caleb shook his head in answer, gaze dropping at the change of subject, accepting the subtle hint that he should not question the other’s actions. Nor did he particularly want to argue for the other to take notice of his failure and deal with him for it. "No. He preferred a quicker transport back to the Assembly. I caste a transport spell in Gandre. I am to inform the driver he will be going back alone."

"Alone? Well, that doesn't sound safe. Couldn't you transport him as well?" Caduceus asked, concern crossing his features as he looked at the young man in question.

The driver was making slow progress readying the carriage, reluctant to get too close to Nott. The goblin was idly watching while sipping from her flask, unconcerned or uncaring of the discomfort the young man was in.

"I have the ability, though the Assembly would not take kindly to a horse and carriage arriving in their inner halls." Caleb explained, hesitant to admit such. Even without such accompaniment, he doubted the arrival would be well received at all.

"So what, just do it." Beau interrupted, approaching with an amused smirk. "Serves Trent right for leaving the guy here like that."

For a moment, Caleb stood frozen. It wouldn't just be Ikithon who would be furious, but the rest of the Assembly leaders. They would blame the driver, who was only a young mage with nowhere near the ability required to caste the transportation spell. That would not matter, he would be the one there to take the blame. There would be more blood on Caleb’s hands, but he was to prove his loyalty _however possible_. Trents orders had been clear.

"If you wish." He agreed shakily.

"Beau! Can we try _not_ to immediately piss off the people responsible for trying to keep the peace?" Fjord chided, joining the conversation. He threw a stern look at Caleb, causing the wizard to put away the components for the spell he had begun to pull out.

"I am perfectly capable of returning on my own." The young driver spoke up, a pale color to his face as his eyes darted between Caleb and Beauregard.

"Oh, come on. It was a joke!" Beau defended, following after Fjord when he rolled his eyes and walked away. "It was!"

"I'm sure you are." Caduceus turned and spoke to the young man, tone placating. He went over to help the driver, shooing Nott away in the process.

The rest of the conversation was lost on Caleb as Mollymauk walked up to loop an arm around his shoulder. “C’mon.” He ordered with a grin, guiding Caleb towards the Keep. “Let’s get to know each other.”

Caleb obediently followed, trepidation clawing at his chest. There were too many possibilities in that statement. The nervousness dimmed as Jester skipped along his other side, apparently intent on following them. Jester had shared much of her history during their travels, so he hoped this would simply be a variation of such a discussion, though likely to be centered on himself.

He almost balked as Molly brought him to the main foyer where Beauregard lounged on a couch with a petulant look on her face. Caleb's step only faltered slightly, however, as the mage pushed aside the panic and did not allow himself to resist Mollymauk's guiding arm.

Molly released Caleb as they entered the room, giving them all an airy wave as he headed towards a door on the far side. “I’m going to get drinks, don’t have fun without me.”

“Bring me some milk!” Jester demanded at his retreating back.

Mollymauk waved his hand again and Jester cheerfully hummed her way over to the fireplace.

“So, _Caleb_.” Beau spoked up after a few minutes, reclining on the couch as she did so. “Why don’t you tell us about yourself.”

She did not speak his name the same way Trent did, with the fury that promised some misery soon coming, but it still set Caleb on edge. Molly’s mention of ‘fun’ didn’t help. He sat tensely in a chair opposite her, glancing over at Molly as the Tiefling returned bearing the promised drinks, then to Jester, who was attempting to start a fire. “What… would you like to know?”

“You know, the basics. Where you’re from, hobbies, whether or not you’re planning on murdering us in our sleep.” Beauregard tossed out the questions casually, ignoring the indignant stretched out ‘Beau’ that came from Jester.

To Caleb, it was not an entirely unexpected line of questioning given Beauregard’s background with the Cobalt Soul. Caleb was not surprised she did not trust him; not only had they just met, but he was one of the Assembly. He answered evenly, in order, each of the topics put forth. “I am from Rexxentrum, though I was born in a small village just past the Amber Crossroads. I have no hobbies worth mentioning. And I have no plans of that nature, no.”

“So, you _do_ have plans then?” Beau accused, giving him a sidelong glance.

“As much as any one of us, I would imagine.” Caleb replied, worried he was risking his neck with that answer.

“Ca-lebbbb.” Jester interrupted them, having tired of playing in the fireplace. “Caleb, come help me!”

Grateful for the distraction from Beauregard’s intensive glare, Caleb obeyed the demand and moved to kneel beside Jester, casting a fire bolt cantrip to set the wood ablaze. He opted to sit on the floor next to Jester in front of the fire, the blue Tiefling seeming exceptionally pleased for his performing such a small task. She also made a nice barrier between himself and the monk, for all it wouldn’t do him much good if Beauregard felt the need to correct him.

He did not need to wait long for the questioning to continue.

“I’ve never been to Rexxentrum, what’s it like there?” Mollymauk asked, joining Beauregard on the couch. She grumbled at the invasion to her space, but just ended up laying her legs overtop Molly’s lap once he was settled.

“I spent much of my time in the Assembly grounds, but it is the same as most other capital cities.” Caleb replied.

“Do you have any siblings? What are your parents like? Do they live in Rexxentrum now too?” Jester asked, tail waving slightly behind her. Caleb would have chuckled at her exuberance, had he not been so nervous.

"No, no siblings. My parents were not… ah, able to move to Rexxentrum when I was admitted to the Assembly. They, ah, died. Many years ago, right before I graduated from pupil to mage." Caleb answered, looking down at his hands.

"Oh no! Caleb! I'm so sorry." Jester lamented, leaning forward towards him.

"What happened?" The gruff question came from Beau, though not spoken unkindly.

"There was a fire." Calrb explained, brow furrowing as his head began to pound. That... was true... or.. it was... Master Ikithon had brought him the news, along with his new Assembly Robes.

_"There was a fire at the Tanner' house in your home village. Tragically, your parents were within the home and died in the fire." Trent told him tonelessly.  
He looked up at his master slowly, breath hitching as the blankness slowly faded into barely restrained shock. His throat was thick as he fought back any show of weakness, as he had been taught. Once he trusted his voice to speak evenly, he asked. "Where will I go now, master?"_

_"Your place is here, boy. After the ceremony you will be Tanner no longer, but Widogast. A surname befitting the Assembly." Trent decreed, holding out the new robes for the younger man to take gingerly. "Is that understood, Bren?"_

"Caleb, I'm so sorry." Jesters words and warm embrace brought Caleb out of the memory. He stiffened in surprise at the sudden proximity of the cleric.

"Nie- ah, no, it is alright." Caleb stopped himself before he could slip into Zemnian, sitting awkward and unsure what to do. "It was many years ago."

"I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose my mama." Jester sniffled, releasing him and sitting up.

Calrb tried not to let his relief show, he couldn't fathom her motives for the touch and not knowing was dangerous. "It was a shock, yes. Though Master Ikithon had been the one to have raised me the majority of my years. My arcane talent was discovered when I was six, and I was taken to the Cerberus Assembly."

He meant that to comfort Jester, to let her know that he did miss his parents but the distance and pseudo parent-ship of Trent had lessened the loss. It wasn’t a lie, not a full spoken one, nothing and no one would replace what he lost... what he had bur-

"Caleb!!" Jester shrieked his name this time, breaking the archmage from the pull of memories, phantom scents and sounds he couldn’t quite recall. She continued more sedately, tone sad. "They took you away from your mama and papa?"

"That’s how it is in the Empire." Beauregard spoke up before Caleb, letting out a sigh. "Got the magical talent, get snatched up by the assembly, never see your family again."

"No... ah, that is not..." Caleb was hesitant to correct the monk, for all he was currently out of immediate arms reach if she took exception. Yet, Jester's expression was so distraught at the idea Beauregard had put forth. "We were allowed to visit our families, on occasion."

"Yeah, and how often was that 'allowed'." Beau shot back, hands making air quotes.

"Once or... twice a year." Caleb muttered, flushing slightly. Those visits had been awkward, quiet affairs. Trent had always accompanied him, his intimidating presence presiding over those meetings and turning them into stilted formal affairs.

"Well, I mean… it's something at least." Jester tried to say cheerily.

"Ja, it is something."

Jester flung herself backwards, sprawling lazily on the floor, tail twitching rhythmically. "I'm still looking for my dad." She stated, folding her arms behind her head.

"You did not know him?" He ventured to ask; tone somewhat hesitant as he cast a nervous glance towards Beau. He was not sure if he were allowed to ask questions in return, for all that Jester seemed the most open about her life.

“No.” Jester answered sadly. “Mama told me about him, and when I had to leave home, I decided to go look for him.”

As neither Beauregard nor Mollymauk had made any indication of displeasure at his first question, Caleb ventured another. “Why did you have to leave home?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey look. A distractions from me messing up Bren's last name.... (blames it on the AU-ness)  
> Also, I may or may not be able to post a chapter tomorrow, so you get two for one today!

Dear gods above, the wizard _could_ be sociable, Molly thought to himself.

Watching Caleb talk to Jester was oddly adorably, but damn if the wizard didn’t look painfully awkward the entire freaking time. Beau had finally stopped staring at the mage, which Molly though probably attributed to the easier flow of questions from Caleb as the conversation progressed.

He listened to them talk for a while, keeping his own curiosities about Caleb to himself for the time being. No need to interrupt the moment. Instead he drank the wine he’d brought back to the foyer, letting Beauregard steal it from him every now and then.

After a while, he stood up, smacking Beau in the arm lightly. “Up! Let’s go!”

“Hey! What the hell, Molly?”

“I’m bored. Come on.” He repeated, dangling the near empty bottle of alcohol over her as incentive. She growled at him but moved to stand up anyway. Pleased with himself, Molly smirked and turned to leave the room, glancing over at the two still sitting by the fire as he went.

Molly had to give it to Caleb, the wizard was at least subtle about watching every move Beau made. That he was wary around her was obvious; his using Jester as a shield had been hilarious. Molly assumed Caleb would figure out over time that Beau was all bark and no bite, mostly no bite anyway, but in the meantime…

“You know you could at least try not to terrify our new wizard. They have lots of useful little spells, you’re going love having one around.” Molly informed Beau, tail flicking saucily behind him as they walked through the hallway.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Molly.” Beau smirked at him. “I’m the epitome of politeness.”

“Says the one who hazed the hell out of Nott until she got shot in the ass.” Molly snickered, letting Beauregard snatch the now empty bottle from his hands.

“Hey! That was a perfectly fair race, and she cheated!” Beau complained, shaking the empty bottle and rolling her eyes. She set it on one of the empty shelves they passed by, either she would grab it later or Nott would. “Besides, I won anyway.”

“He’s human, like you, figured you’d be the one he got along with better in the first place. And that you might like another Empire native to talk to.” Molly brought the discussion back on topic as he shrugged, heading towards his room.

“Yeah, except half the empire are racist little shits, and one hundred percent of the Cerberus Assembly are stuck up racist assholes.” Beau replied.

“He doesn’t seem like much of an asshole to me. Least not any more than the rest of us.”

Beau made herself comfortable in his room, sitting cross-legged on his bed. She propped her chin on her fists, frowning to herself as Molly wandered the room finding more comfortable clothing to wear now that they were home. Molly might have a point… but when she looked at Caleb, she saw Trent or every other stuck up bastard at the Assembly. She hadn’t had many personal run ins with them, but she’d had _enough_.

“You’re just pissy because Yasha left, aren’t you.” Molly interrupted her thoughts.

She glanced up to glare at him, not at all disturbed by his complete nudity despite the blush on her face. “I am not pissy! And even if I was, that wouldn’t have anything to do with it!” Beau snapped defensively.

“Alright, alright.” Molly laughed, grabbing a tunic and breeches and throwing them over his shoulder. “Just making an observation, no need to get your panties in a twist.”

“That’s not an observation, that’s slander.” She grumbled, watching as he wandered off to presumably go bath across the hall. “And put some damned pants on!”

~~

Caleb was _very_ glad none of them had noticed the small flinch he had let slip at the sound of Molly hitting Beau. What the monk had done wrong, Caleb had no idea. He was simply glad that whatever the switch in Molly’s mood, he had not been the cause nor the target. Either way, apparently Molly was higher in the hierarchy of the group because Beau had just followed him when he left.

A little while after Beau followed Molly out, Caleb gave Jester a tired smile, tone apologetic. “Jester, would, ah, would it be alright if, ah, we could continue this discussion… another time?”

“Oh my gosh!” Jester exclaimed. “You probably want to see your new room and check out your new home!”

Caleb tensed at first, leaning away instinctively at the loud exclamation. _Don’t give orders to me, boy, I tell you-_.

“Come on, come on!”

Caleb took in a sharp breath as Jester reached down to pull him to his feet, having apparently gotten to her own amid the near panic attack he’d almost fallen into. She gripped his hand, the sensation foreign enough to pull him completely back to the present, and pulled him along behind her.

“You’re going to love it!” She told him cheerfully.

Caleb nodded agreement, even though she didn’t look back at him, making a mental map of the path she brought him along. They came to a stop in front of a plain wooden door and Jester let him go as she whirled around in a circle before standing expectantly beside him. Caleb hesitated, trying to get his jumbled thoughts in order and figure out what it was Jester wanted him to do. The way she was looking at him, it couldn’t possibly be so simple as to just open the door.

“Well… go on, go check it out.” Jester complained.

Or perhaps it was.

Flushing slightly, Caleb turned to reach out and open the door, braced for… something… a test of sorts perhaps. The door opened easily and, after a quick glance at Jester, Caleb walked within the room. He kept his gaze lowered, heart racing in his chest as Jester followed him inside.

“Oh, man, you _really_ didn’t bring a lot of stuff, did you.” Jester commented, also taking in the room. Or rather, she was the only one taking in the room currently, as Caleb had yet to calm his racing mind enough to properly look around.

“The Assembly provided my needs previously.” He answered, keeping his voice even as he folded his arms behind his back.

“Well, yeah, okay, but didn’t you have your own things?” Jester questioned, expression… puzzled?

“I did, yes.” Caleb replied. In a sense he did, his clothing and some of the books were his own. That was not what Jester meant, he was intelligent enough to know that, but he answered an affirmative as that seemed to be what she wanted to hear.

“Okaayyyy.” She agreed, drawing the word out dubiously. There was a short pause, Jester rocking back and forth on her feet as she waited. Caleb waited as well, fighting to restrain the anxiety from becoming panic, unsure what she wanted but more than willing to obey if she would _just tell him_.

“Well, what do you think of the room?” Jester finally prompted.

Given a task, or in this case a question to answer, Caleb let his gaze wander the room. It was larger than the dorms at the Assembly, as expected. Better furnished than he expected as well. It was more than he deserved, he had not earned such privilege, but he knew better than to call Caduceus’ decision into question again.

He reasoned that Jester perhaps wanted some praise for the room they had placed him in, and he would easily provide such. “It is magnificent, an improvement from my previous residence.” He told her, sincere because it was true. “You are very generous. Thank you, for the room.”

“Oh, Caleb.” Jester laughed. “It’s not _that_ amazing, it’s just a room.”

Caleb swallowed, forcing his words carefully and evenly past the unease that threatened to close his throat. He had thought she wanted… “Even so, you have my thanks. You have… welcomed me to your home, and… I am grateful.”

For a long moment, Jester was quiet, studying him with an indecipherable expression on her face. Caleb could not meet her gaze, afraid of what he would find perhaps, or afraid it would break some unknown rule. He wasn’t sure which, only that the fear was present. Instead he busied himself carefully scanning the room, hoping she would assume he was appreciating the gift they had given him.

Caleb was certain he was going to have a heart attack as Jester abruptly strode over and threw her arms around him. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, fear clawing at his throat as his mind went blank. He didn’t catch what she said, only that the tone was not angry, displeased, or disappointed. Just… cheerful? No, not exactly, there was something else. Sadness? That couldn’t… Before he could get his scrambled thoughts back in order, the blue Tiefling was skipping away, leaving him alone in the room.

“Scheisse… verdammte Scheiße.” He breathed out, whole body shaking as he tried to regain some semblance of equilibrium. It was difficult to breath, his body seeming to have forgotten the simple rhythm.

His movements were clumsy, Caleb feeling almost disconnected from himself as he stumbled over to the door. He had the presence of mind to shut it _gently_ , terrified of making any noise and gaining the attention of any of the others. He braced himself against the closed door, closing his eyes and leaning against it as he tried to breathe.

He was failing miserably, breaths coming in short pants. “Verdammt…” the curse came out as less than a whisper, Caleb sliding down the door and curling up on the floor. He was trying, he was _trying_ , if they would _please_ just let him…

_Failure is NOT tolerated, boy._

_His arms were burning, shards of green crystal digging into his flesh, arcane energy ripping and tearing his skin like paper. Pain, coursing like lightening, the price of failure. Of **weakness**._

Caleb tore at the bandages on his arms, breath coming in ragged gasps. He had to get them out, make it stop, get them **out**.

“HEY CALEB, IF YOU WANT SOME FOOD YOU BETTER COME GET IT!”

Beauregard’s shouted words caused Caleb to freeze. Slowly, his eyes focused, seeing the jagged scars, fully healed, on his arms. Trent’s voice slowly faded from his mind, his breath gradually slowing to a more sedate pace. Beau’s voice had sounded distant, so Caleb told himself she would not be coming to collect him, likely did not care if he ate with them at all. Might perhaps prefer he did not.

Caleb reached out a hand, using the door to brace himself as he forced himself on his feet.

No, Beauregard had called for him, it would be inadvisable to ignore her. Twice already he had not done as she had ordered, he could not make this a third. He bent to pick up the bandages and began to wrap them carefully over his arms. Piece by piece, as each scar was covered with the linen cloth, Caleb pushed away the anxiety, the fear, the uncertainty. He could not display such _weakness_ , they would never allow…

Caleb let out a breath, locking away his emotions as he secured the final piece of bandage. He straightened his clothes, thumb and forefinger rubbing together anxiously, then exited the room.


	12. Chapter 12

Fjord knew the night was going to be complete shit the instant Caleb stepped into the dining area. Beauregard went completely stiff and tense, expression twisting into a mix of furious annoyance when she laid eyes on the wizard. Following her gaze, Fjord could understand why. If Caleb had been cold and distant before, he looked positively _glacial_ right now.

What. The. Fuck.

Jester and Molly hadn’t noticed, busy talking and a laughing at some story from Mollymauk’s time with the circus. Nott was eyeing Caleb, but looked more wary and concerned versus Beau’s righteous fury. Thank gods for Caduceus.

The Firbolg didn’t appear the least bit perturbed by Caleb’s new stony attitude. He didn’t hesitate to walk over to greet Caleb, smiling and gesturing for the wizard to come have a seat. “Ah, mister Caleb, so glad you joined us, you’re just in time. I’ve got tea, if you want some, and dinner’s just about ready.”

Caleb followed Caduceus’ lead, sitting where the Firbolg indicated.

Jester and Molly’s conversation carried on uninterrupted, Nott chiming in ever now and then. Beau was silent and Fjord just watched the tension in her with a growing trepidation.

Caduceus was the first to speak to Caleb, turning to smile at him once everyone had some food in front of them and had begun eating. Caleb’s own plate was fairly sparse, items placed on there only at suggestion of one of the group. Molly, Jester, and now Nott were the only three keeping the discussion going. Beauregard would toss a comment in here or there, though her attention always seemed to stray back to Caleb.

“Caleb, how do you like your room? Everything all settled?” Caduceus asked politely, trying to include the mage in the conversations going around the table, or at least distract him from whatever thoughts were giving him such a hard time right now.

“Yes, it is very nice. Thank you.” Caleb replied, voice strangely flat and monotone.

“What, not fancy enough? Do we not measure up to all your _Assembly_ standards?” Beau snapped, glaring in the face of Caleb’s cold demeanor.

“Beau, I’m sure that’s not what he meant.” Fjord tried to head off the confrontation, but that was like jumping in front of wild moorbounder. It was pointless and didn’t work.

“I apologize.” Caleb began, same near toneless words, eyes not lifting from the untouched plate of food in front of him. “I meant no offense.”

“It’s fine, Beau.” Caduceus began evenly. “If there’s something wrong, I’m sure we can fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix! If he doesn’t like it, he can summon his dumb fancy mansion or go sleep outside!” Beau argued.

“If I may be excused.” Caleb stated blankly, rising from his seat. The mage slightly shifted his focus toward Fjord, though his expression was still rather distant.

Fjord blinked at him in surprise, frowning as he realized Caleb had _actually_ been asking. “Uh, okay…” He agreed, confused as Caleb then turned and walked away. He turned to look at Beau when Caleb had left, wanting to ask just what the hell _that_ had been. Unfortunately, Beauregard was glowering and muttering about ‘fucking mages’, so Fjord gave that up quickly. He did not feel like being dragged into another round of ‘the Cerberus Assembly sucks, here’s why’.

Instead, Fjord was left to puzzle the strange interaction on his own, grateful that Caleb had opted to ignore the prickly monk (though why _ask_ to leave?) rather than engage her in a debate on the merits of his new room. The air was a lot more awkward and tense now, Jester and Molly’s conversation slow to start back up.

Caduceus was giving Beau a reproachful look, of which the monk was studiously avoiding making eye contact.

After ten minutes or so of awkward silence, the rest of the room gradually falling back into the normal relaxed conversation, Beau scooted her chair closer to Jester. The cleric ignored her at first, so Beau leaned in to speak in an overly casual way. “Hey, hey Jes, you think you could maybe, I dunno, message Yasha? See how she’s doing?”

“I don’t know _Beau_ , do you think you can maybe stop being such a _dick_ all the time?” Jester accused with a very disapproving glare.

“Oh, come on Jester…”

“Caleb’s just having a hard time adjusting, okay, he doesn’t have any family, or friends here, or family at all, and Trent was kinda stu-pid, so you should just be nicer to Caleb, that’s all I’m saying.” Jester informed her, not taking a breath in between words or pausing between sentences, her voice lilting up higher near the end of her rant.

“I think Jester is right.” Nott chimed in, giving Beau a reproachful look. “He might not have been very sincere, but he still said ‘thank you’ for the room and that it was very nice.”

“Well, he was definitely sincere when I talked to him earlier.” Jester told them, voice still a little high pitched. “He said he was very grateful, and it just made me so sad, you know, cuz he’s just all alone here now.”

“UGH!” Beau groaned, rocking back in her seat before leaning forward again. “OK, fine, I’ll be nicer. But that’s kinda hard when he get’s that higher than thou face on him like all the rest of the asshat mages back home.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll relax eventually.” Caduceus guessed. “People are bound to be uncomfortable first few days in a new place.”

“You know this is kinda shitty, you all ganging up on me.” Beau commented, hostility fading from her voice as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Beau, you remember how we used to work on your people skills?” Fjord asked lightly. “We might want to revisit that.”

“Okay! Fine. I’m sorry I was an ass.” Beau relented, throwing her hands up in the air.

“And you’ll be nicer….” Nott prompted, hopping up from her chair and crossing over to pick up Caleb’s plate.

“And I’ll be nicer.” Beau huffed, narrowing her eyes at Nott. “What are you doing?”

“Since you chased him away before he could even eat anything, I’m bringing him some food. He shouldn’t go without dinner.” Nott snipped, giving her another glare. The implied ‘because of you’ left unsaid.

“Ugh, will you guys stop hassling me if I take it up there and apologize?”

“Perhaps it might be best for everyone if the both of you take some time to calm down first.” Caduceus suggested, diplomatically for someone who didn’t particularly care for politics.

“That’s probably a good idea.” Fjord agreed. The last thing they needed was Beau to go up there to apologize, something that put her in a bad mood in general, only for the two of them to get into an argument. Fjord wasn’t sure who would win if it sparked into an actual fight (though he guessed it would completely depend who struck first), but it would be messy either way. He’d rather avoid any potential problems.

“Thank you, Beau, that’s very nice of you to offer.” Nott said pointedly. “But since I’m the only one who hasn’t actually gotten a chance to talk to Caleb yet, I think I’d prefer to do it.”

“Fair enough.” Beau muttered as she watched Nott leave, leaning back in her seat and looking at least a little regretful. After a few minutes she glanced over to Jester hopefully. “So… about messaging Yasha?”

“Okay, but only because _I_ want to know what she’s doing.” Jester agreed, tone prim.

~~

Caleb returned to the room he had been given, staring numbly at the floor as he closed the door behind him.

That had gone about as well as he had expected. He was not sure which outcome would be worse; the current one, or the one that may have happened had he ignored Beauregard’s call in the first place.

Unable to resist any longer, afraid of the spiral he would fall into should he not, he clicked his fingers to summon Frumpkin. The fey cat spared a moment to glance around their new surroundings as he padded over to Caleb. The mage knelt to pick up the cat, carrying him close to his chest as he moved to sit upon the bed.

“Wir sind jetzt drin, mein Freund.” He whispered lowly, slowly lowering his mental barriers as he tried to deal with the fear, memories, and conflicted emotions. Frumpkin helped ground him, the non-stop rumbling purr a soothing sound. He kept his gaze on the doorway, hyper aware and alert for any movement or indication someone would enter. He knew he had angered the monk, was distantly surprised he had been allowed to leave, and he would not risk his only friend to her wrath.

Caleb took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he tried to force himself to relax, to be calm.

He was being irrational, _weak_ , he knew that.

Jester had not harmed him, had not threatened him or indicated she had been displeased at all. Perhaps he had not failed whatever test that had been after all, despite her words. She must have wanted praise, even if she had brushed off the sentiment. Her embracing him had been… unexpected. He had never been rewarded for success before, though he supposed that _must_ have been what that was. She’d done much the same when he had lit the fire for her before. He should probably simply be grateful she had not noticed his reaction; she may have determined he was not properly appreciative.

His current failing had been in the delivery of that repeated praise during the meal. Beauregard had not believed his sincerity. It was hard to sound sincere when he had been doing his best not to fall into a panic simply because the cleric had _hugged_ him. Both instances were an abysmal display of weakness, Trent would have been _**furious**_.

He shuddered, the sheer overwhelming amount of stress at the unknown threatening to drown him. Frumpkin licked his hand, rough tongue scraping his skin with a vague rasping sound. Caleb counted slowly in his head, evening out his breathing as he tried to smile at Frumpkin. He scrooched the cat under the chin with a shaking hand. “We will get through this, you and I, ja? Just like always.”

Caleb flinched, heart skipping a beat as there was a sudden knock at the door. Reflexively, he clicked his fingers to send Frumpkin away, eyes darting back up to the door he should never have looked away from. With relief, it was still closed, his cat safe and secret still.

“Caleb?” The rough voice of Nott called out to him. “Caleb, are you still awake?”

Of the group, she had not been one who he would have guessed would be sent to deal with him. Caleb stood, moving across the room to open the door. He briefly met Nott’s gaze before his own skittered to the side, hesitantly speaking. “Nott, is there something you require?”

Nott shook her head, ears flopping a little. “No, I just wanted to bring you some food. You left before you could eat anything.” Nott informed him.

Caleb brought his gaze back to the goblin, noticing the plate she carried in her hands. It was… unexpected and Caleb did not know how to respond.

“And, Beau says she’s sorry for being such an asshole. And she promises to be nicer.” Nott continued, handing him the plate of food.

That was a lie, it had to be. He could not imagine the irate monk agreeing to be nice to _him_. Unless being nice simply meant she would not be coming up here to pulverize him for having the audacity to offend her and then _leave_.

“Thank you, Nott. I will… do my best not to upset her again.” He replied, accepting the plate to goblin offered.

“You seem a lot nicer than Trent, if you don’t mind me saying so. Beau will calm down after a while, I think that man really riled her up.” Nott confided, eyes darting down the hall as if she were telling a secret.

Caleb followed her gaze, concern crossing his features briefly, though he saw no one approaching. “Ah, I… understand.” He replied slowly, not understanding at all. The sentiment, yes, Master Ikithon had that affect on many people. Nott’s conspiratorial tone and the advice that Beauregard would ‘calm down’ were less clear.

“Good.” Nott nodded, looking pleased. “Now you go on and eat your dinner and get some rest. You look like you need it.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Nott.” Caleb agreed, still somewhat puzzled, but much calmer than he had been before as Nott walked away. The goblin was very strange, not unpleasant, but strange.

He shut the door, moving further into his room and setting the plate on the bed as he sat down. With a short glance at the door, and only a few moment’s hesitation, he clicked Frumpkin back into the room. The cat sniffed at him, whiskers curling as he let out a soft ‘mrt’ noise in feline inquiry.

“Mir geht es gut.” He told Frumpkin, smiling more easily at the cat this time.

Frumpkin leapt up beside him, placing one paw on Caleb’s leg as he butted his head against Caleb’s stomach. Caleb chuckled, scratching the cat’s head. “I am, I promise. They are not even too angry with me, see? Nott brought me food.”

Frumpkin blinked at him, tail twitching and flicking a few times.

Caleb picked at the food, appetite not fully returned, but his stomach was not so in knots anymore that he could not eat. “Ich weiß, it is not a glowing stamp of approval. But it is better than the alternative, no?”

Frumpkin lay down next to his leg, purring softly as Caleb continued to speak quietly. “Nott is a goblin.” He explained to Frumpkin, casting a glance at the door every so often. “The first we have ever met, ja? I do not know her very well yet. Or any of them really, except perhaps Jester. She has told me so much about herself already.”

Caleb placed the plate on the end table next to the bed, laying down and letting Frumpkin curl up on his chest. Frumpkin purred gently as he got settled, claws nipping lightly at Caleb’s clothes as he kneaded at the wizard’s chest, though never scratching the man’s skin.

Caleb pet Frumpkin slowly once the cat was well settled, one arm folded behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He spoke in a soft whisper, explaining everything he and Jester had spoken about, both on the journey and after arriving at the keep. It was easier to think of that interaction, the calmness and… friendliness of the cleric.

Eventually his words faded off, eyes closing as Frumpkin’s purring lulled him to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t originally have a plan for this chapter… it just…….. happened. Enjoy the chaos.

“DAMMIT NOTT!!”

Caleb was woken in the morning by the sound of shouting, followed by something breaking. The mage bolted upright from where he had been curled around Frumpkin, near choking on his panic to click his fingers and send the cat away. Once more when he looked, despite his fears and panic, the door remained closed. He sat still for a moment, running his hand down his face as he slowed his breathing.

His internal clock soon righted itself, surprising Caleb with how relatively late in the morning he had slept. Frumpkin had helped, though Caleb should not have fallen asleep with his friend still on this plane of existence. Yes, he could caste the find familiar spell if something were to happen to his friend, but he did not know the cost the Nine would demand for obtaining the components, nor how long it would take to be given the material at all. Frumpkin was all he had here.

Caleb stood, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders as he walked over to the lone trunk that contained what he had brought from the Assembly. Its contents were few and undisturbed thanks to the simple locking spell all mages put on their belongings. Trent would easily have been able to open it, though it seemed Caduceus had not had that same ability.

Caleb stripped off the decorative robes the Assembly had dressed him in for the journey and meeting, then changed into his more usual attire. What remained within the trunk after were some additional changes of clothing and his spellbooks. He removed a few of them, placing them in their holders within his jacket. Their weight was a familiar presence he had missed.

He picked up one of the newer ones, flipping through until he came to the blank pages. He had enough quality paper to transcribe should he come across any new spells. There was a small jar of ink in his belongings too, which he carefully added to his components back. It would not be enough, but he hoped perhaps he could convince the Nine the usefulness of obtaining more.

Caleb sighed quietly to himself, standing upright. He had delayed long enough, he could not hide within this room forever. Gain the trust of the Mighty Nine, prove his loyalty. Then whatever plans Master Ikithon had it the works would come to fruition and he would, presumably, go back to the familiar life of only needing to anticipate the actions and orders of _one_ person.

Caleb straightened his overcoat, rewrapping the bandages that had slipped on his right arm during the night. Distractedly, he opened the door, coming to a very sudden and tense halt as he looked up.

Caleb’s breath caught in his throat seeing Beauregard standing there, one hand raised. His heart skipped, unable to contain the small flinch as he automatically stepped back. She dropped her hand, giving him an odd look as he hurried to try and apologize to avoid any forthcoming anger. “Ah, I am sorry, Beauregard. I did not- Ah, good morning.” He spoke cautiously, trying not to stumble over his words. “What do you-“

“Yeah, good morning, look sorry about last night, okay.” Beauregard launched into speaking, not giving him the opportunity to inquire what she wanted from him. “Anger management’s not exactly my strong suite, alright.”

“I-“ Caleb began, feeling off balance and uneasy. Nott had said Beauregard was sorry, but hearing it from the monk herself was even more confusing.

“Just shut up and let me talk.” Beauregard snapped, interrupting him. “I was being an ass, and I’m sorry, okay, so let’s just start over… or whatever.”

Caleb hesitated, unsure if he were allowed (or required) to respond now or if she had more to say.

“…” She glared at him, one finger tapping quickly on her crossed arms.

“That is, ah, a very good idea, Beauregard.” Caleb said gingerly, attempting to pick his words with care. He did not want to reignite the anger from the previous evening and the monk seemed to be on edge. He dropped his gaze as Beauregard frowned at him, heart rate picking up as she was silent for a long moment.

Caleb looked back up again as Beauregard gave a discontented grunt. “Anyway, Caduceus is down in the gardens, says he’ll be happy to show you around the place if you want.”

“Thank you, Beauregard.” He said politely, inclining his head slightly. Go to Caduceus, a very simple task, even if he was not completely sure where the mentioned gardens were located. He thought he remembered seeing something of that nature when he had first arrived.

Beau grunted again, turning and walking away with no additional words.

Finding his way to the courtyard was no trouble to Caleb, he simply backtracked along the path Jester had dragged him along the previous evening, and the path Mollymauk had taken bringing him to the Foyer in the first place. He did not run into any of the others along the way, though he did hear what he thought was Mollymauk and Fjord speaking in an adjacent room as he passed.

The sky outside was dark grey, a warm wind blowing with a scent that promised rain soon.

Caleb looked around the yard slowly. The Keep itself was surrounded by a low stone wall, tall enough not to easily see over, but short enough that climbing it wouldn’t be impossible. Not created for defense then. In lieu of a gate, there was simply a gap in the stone wall, approximately twenty feet across. The stables stood near the entryway, soft sounds of the horses within making its way to Caleb.

Nearer the keep was the gardens, the greenery standing out amid the otherwise monochromatic surroundings. He did not see the shock of white and pink that was Caduceus, however. Beside the garden was a building with larger than normal windows covered with solid panes of glass. He could see additional greenery through it and so headed in that direction.

Caleb tapped on the door as he opened it, hoping he did not need specific permission to enter. Beauregard had told him to find Caduceus, so he hoped that was sufficient. The Firbolg was, indeed, inside the greenhouse, currently watering some kind of mushrooms.

“Caduceus. Good morning. Beauregard indicated you wished to…ah, show me around.” He said as greeting.

“Caleb. Good morning to you as well.” Caduceus said with a smile. “Yes, I did mention that to Beau. Jester messaged Yasha after you left last evening and she won’t be back until tomorrow night, so it seems there’s not much for us to do but wait, right now.”

Caduceus moved around the greenhouse as he spoke, hand touching a few plants here and there as he made his way closer to Caleb. The mage watched and listened with a slight feeling of trepidation, unsure what this would mean for him. He had been made to understand that the Mighty Nine was not prone to staying in one place. They were, so far as he understood, much like Master Ikithon had described. Traveling mercenaries.

Caleb followed Caduceus outside, stopping with the Firbolg when he paused to listen to a low rumbled of distant thunder. “Huh.” He hummed, looking up at the shifting mass of grey clouds. “Someone’s got a lot to say.”

“Yasha follows the Stormlord.” Mollymauk’s sudden voice cause Caleb to jump, shifting away from the sudden appearance of the Tiefling. Molly held up his hands peaceably, giving Caleb an apologetic smile. “Just in case Cad here was being too cryptic.”

“I, ah, I see.” Caleb replied warily, eyes darting briefly to Molly’s raised hands before fixating on the ground.

Molly tilted his head slightly, slowly dropping his hands as he studied the mage. He hadn’t meant to startle the wizard, and his reassuring gesture seemed to have the opposite effect. He glanced at Caduceus, who seemed equally as perplexed.

Molly wrapped an arm around Caleb’s shoulder, movements deliberately slower than his general casual flamboyance. The wizard sure was a skittish one. And here he’d thought Beau had gone and apologized. Or maybe she had, and it had gone over about as well as all her _other_ apologies. “You’ll get used to it.” He advised the mage, patting him on the shoulder.

Molly kept in step beside Caleb as Caduceus started walking again, Caleb following dutifully along behind the grave cleric.

~~

The tour was uneventful, though Jester made an amusing diversion when they came across her painting in Beau’s room. They’d already run through the main areas, Caduceus just ambling along holding a one-sided conversation with the wizard. Molly traveled along-side Caleb, having eventually dropped his arm from around the other’s shoulder. When the bloodhunter heard Jester’s singsong humming coming from Beau’s room, he paused and detoured to check out what was happening.

Caleb was a half-step behind him in changing direction. Caduceus stopped briefly but shook his head and continued on with a mumbled “Oh, I am not going to get involved in this.”

Molly grinned at Caleb, encouraged by the archmage deciding to follow him, taking it as curiosity on the wizard’s part. If Caleb was curious enough to investigate what Jester was up to, he must be relaxing a little. Hopefully.

Mollymauk entered Beauregard’s room, reaching back to tug lightly on Caleb’s coat lapels when the mage hesitated at the doorway. The Tiefling continued forward, sauntering into the room and grinning at the source of the singing. “Jester, what _are_ you doing?”

“Molly!” Jester cheered, turning around to face them, paint brush in hand. When her eyes landed on Caleb, her smile widened, voice going higher. “And Caleb!!”

Caleb was less than comfortable. His original hesitation had simply been an unwillingness to enter unbidden into someone else’s personal quarters. Molly had negated that, but just looking around Caleb could tell he wouldn’t be welcome here no matter _who_ it was that told him to enter. This was most obviously Beauregard’s room and she would not like his presence there, even if Molly currently wished him to remain.

“Hallo, Jester. Good morning.” He said politely, watching carefully as she leapt down from where she had been standing on the bed.

“I see you’ve been redecorating.” Molly commented, moving away from the two of them and standing near the food of Beau’s bed as he inspected the wall above the headboard.

Caleb shifted the focus of his gaze from the Tiefling to the wall, blinking in surprise. An array of colors spread in an elegant arch, vines and leaves curling around in circles and lines, weaving together in an intricate web. The overall design resembled the symbol around Jester’s neck, but there was something different in the detailing. His brow furrowed, head tilting in confusion.

“Are-“ He stopped, glancing at Mollymauk but the bloodhunter was paying no attention to him. “Are those… dicks?”

Jester clapped her hands, laughing. “Good job, Caleb, you found them already!”

“Jester, I’m impressed.” Molly chuckled.

“She’s going to be _really_ mad.” Jester snorted.

“Is… is that wise?” Caleb questioned nervously.

Jester and Molly shared a look, Caleb tensing as his gaze darted between them. He should not have…

“Don’t worry, Caleb.” Jester said kindly. “I know Beau can be a jerk sometimes, but she’s really not all _that_ bad.”

“Of course, yes.” Caleb agreed automatically, attempting to smile convincingly. “She… did speak with me, ah, earlier.”

“Good, I’m glad-“ Jester stopped midword, head tilting to the side as she apparently listened. Caleb recognized the expression, though he did not know who would be messaging the cleric. Molly turned from his inspection of the work of ‘art’, leaning his hip lazily against the bedpost as he waited as well.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Nott says she’s on her way right now!” Jester shrieked quietly, eyes widening as her hands flailed in apparent panic. “Caleb, Caleb, do you know the dimension door spell?!”

“Ah, j-ja, yes…” He assented, confused. Only a moment ago she had not feared Beauregard’s wrath at all, now she wished to flee?

Molly stepped over to Caleb quickly, tossing an arm over his shoulder again. “Good, she does too. Now let’s get outta here.”

“Meet you in the yard!” Jester said, vanishing in a short puff of arcane energy a moment later.

This… had to be the strangest use of the spell, or magic in general, but Caleb obediently caste the spell. With a twist of light and energy, both himself and Mollymauk soon stood in the center of the yard.

Caleb winced as Molly reached up to ruffle his hair, pulling him close to place a kiss on his forehead. “That’s for the lift. I’d suggest hiding out in your room til this blows over.” Molly advised, fangs showing through his wide grin.

Caleb watched in frozen disbelief as the two Tiefling’s bolted, drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky above.

What had just happened?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, because this would confuse me if I were reading this story (it’s happened before), the last section we kinda skip back in time a day. Also, heyyyy plot development maybe.

Caleb did as Molly told him, he returned to his room.

He sat on the bed once he got there, listening to the dull noise of rain hitting stone, trying to comprehend the events of the past few minutes. Why would Jester paint that drawing _knowing_ it would anger the monk?

Molly had been there and had expressed his approval, so perhaps it was part of some type of punishment? Though that did not seem in keeping with Caleb’s observation and experience with Molly’s preferred form of correction. In any case, the purple Tiefling had seemed just as eager as Jester to flee when told Beauregard was returning.

“JESTER!!!”

Beauregard’s shout was not unexpected, Caleb tensing only slightly as his gaze drifted slowly over to the closed door to his room. Their hasty flight from the room had apparently been unnecessary, as it had been nearly half an hour and Beauregard had only just now discovered the artwork. Beauregard had apparently recognized Jester’s handiwork and was, as Jester had said she would be, angry. He felt some sympathy for the blue Tiefling, the monk sounded livid.

Caleb’s heart leapt in his throat as his door opened without warning, the wizard scrambling to his feet and standing respectfully. Jester didn’t take any notice, too busy whirling around to shut the door quietly behind her and lean her ear against it to listen.

She giggled quietly, turning around and putting a finger to her lips. “She’ll never think to look for me here.”

He very much doubted the veracity of that statement, but he agreed with a short nod anyway. He didn’t trust himself to speak through the tightness in his throat, the beating of his heart almost audible in his own mind.

“Caleb!! Hey, CALEB!” Beau’s voice came from the other side of the door, fist pounding against the wood a couple times.

“Hide me! Hide me, hide me!” Jester whispered squeakily.

With a sinking sensation in his stomach, Caleb cast the first spell that came to mind to comply with the order. He took out the components, rubbing the gum arabic in his palm as he spoke the short words for the spell. He reached out to touch her shoulder, fixing the incantation in his mind as the spell took hold and Jester vanished from sight.

Caleb dropped his arm as the door to his room was flung open. He shifted slightly, folding his arms behind his back and angling himself so he would face Beauregard and Jester, assuming the cleric hadn’t moved.

The door to his room remained open as Beau stormed in and Caleb distantly wondered if Jester would take that opportunity to leave, or if she would remain to watch. The spell he had cast required concentration, something he was unsure if Jester was aware of. If Beau broke his concentration, which would be a likely occurrence, Jester would be found.

Given the set-up of this little misery, so convenient Beau waited long enough to enter for him to cast the spell, perhaps that was the whole point. He kept his expression carefully blank, as the monk strode into the room.

“Have you seen Jester?” Beau demanded, eyes scanning the room. “I _know_ she came this way…”

“I saw her earlier today.” Caleb answered evenly, not a lie, but knowing Jester did not want him to reveal her location he gave the only answer available. Remaining silent was not an option in the face of

Beauregard’s question. Even with the suspicious circumstance, he felt some fondness for the blue Tiefling and risked Beauregard’s redirected wrath by protecting her.

Beauregard cast him a short glare, but her attention seemed to have shifted. The monk was inspecting the room, brow furrowed in an odd expression. “Where the fuck is all your stuff?”

Confused, Caleb moved over to the trunk with his belongings, kneeling down to open it before stepping back. He remained quiet, remembering Beauregard’s snapped order to ‘shut up and let her talk’ from that morning. He would hazard her preference was him not speaking. Instead, he simply stepped back, distance an unspoken surrendering.

Beau narrowed her eyes suspiciously, glancing from the contents to Caleb. “That’s it?”

That was a question that seemed to demand an answer, though Caleb could not fathom what she was after. “I do not understand.”

Caleb stumbled slightly as a weight suddenly attached itself to his side, arms wrapping around his neck as Jester’s voice sounded next to his face. “Aw, Caleeeeb.”

Beau’s eyes zoned in on the empty space beside Caleb. “That’s cheating, Jess!”

Caleb remained still and pliant as Jester pulled him closer, having to bend slightly to accommodate the Tiefling’s shorter height. He looked at the ground as she kissed his cheek, chirping out a “thanks Caleb” as she let him go.

“Dammit Jester!” Beau snapped, eyes darting around in search of the voice, vaguely following the sound of retreating footsteps. She snapped her gaze back to Caleb, intensive and demanding as she took a step toward him. “Make it a fair fight and drop the spell.”

“O-of course, Beauregard.” He agreed, releasing the invisibility spell.

“Ca-leb!!”

Jester’s complaint echoed from down the hall and Beau grinned, darting out the door.

Caleb watched her go, dreading the moment she discovered he had been within her room with Jester during the defacing of her wall. He had just disappointed Jester as well and did not look forward to the outcome of that.

He was still very perplexed at how events had progressed, uneasy and trying _not_ to imagine the variable possibilities of punishments that might result from his actions. He had not anticipated the difficulty in following their orders, had not thought of the reality that was the conflicting nature of their directives.

Jester had wanted him to hide her, thus the invisibility spell. Beauregard wanted him to drop the spell, so he had done so. Jester had been displeased, but he could see no other alternative. If he did not drop the spell voluntarily, Beauregard had seemed more than willing to force the same result. _This time_ the choice had been obvious.

He slowly walked over to the door, closing it and turning to slide down and sit on the floor in front of the entrance to the room. His brow was pinched, stomach twisting with anxious tension at the impossibility of this situation. It had only been one day and already he was having difficulty complying to their orders, how would be able to prove his loyalty if he was always and forever choosing between who’s orders to obey?

He clicked Frumpkin to him, not speaking but only holding the cat. Caleb resolved to remain in his room in obedience to Molly’s order, this one thankfully not conflicting with anyone else’s.

~~

“Where’s Caleb?” Nott asked, glancing around the rest of the group as they sat down for dinner later that evening.

“Last I saw him, he was up in his room.” Beau replied lazily.

“I take it you two are getting along better?” Caduceus asked, bringing out a tray of tea and handing cups to those who wanted them.

“Caddy.” Molly commented, straight faced. “Does our Beauregard ever get along with anyone?”

“Ha. Ha.” Beau laughed sarcastically as Jester and Nott snickered, Molly’s lip curling into a teasing grin. “I apologized to him this morning, didn’t I?”

“Yes, speaking of which, perhaps, next time, you might want to try _not_ snapping at him in the process.” Fjord informed her, then shifted the conversation before the teasing could progress any further. Jester, Molly, and Nott had all ribbed the monk enough. Between Nott’s sneak attack that morning and Jester’s… artwork, they’d gotten her back. He didn’t need this to devolve into a prank war. Again. “How’s Caleb doing, by the way? I haven’t actually seen or talked to him at all today.”

“He seems wary.” Caduceus replied, tone contemplative. “Molly and I showed him around the keep today.”

“He’s an assembly mage surrounded by mostly people from Xhorhas and an expositor from the Cobalt Soul. You expect anything different?” Beau scoffed.

“He gets along with me and Molly just fine, Beau.” Jester informed the monk, giving her a sweet smile.

Beauregard narrowed her eyes at the blue Tiefling, calculating. “He was fucking in on it, wasn’t he? No wonder he-”

“Please, can we not?” Fjord interrupted, sounding exasperated and scolding. “I don’t want to go through this _again_. Jester you almost got arrested last time.”

Neither of them had the decency to look even remotely ashamed, but they let the subject drop finally.

“Yash will be back tomorrow, hopefully with some juicy details, and things can get back to normal.” Molly brought the topic back to something productive, tossing the roll Beau had been eyeing at her.

“Define normal.” Nott scoffed.

“Fine. We’ll go out and pick up some odd jobs, get some gold, and go shopping. No one can be mad when they’ve got good hard-earned coin in their pocket.” Molly retorted, rolling his eyes.

“Yasha already said she found out some stuff, so we gotta deal with that first.” Jester reminded him.

“And _then_ we get some gold.” Nott cheered, taking a large swig from her flask.

Fjord just put his hand over his face and bit back a groan.

~~

Yasha did not let Nott go with her across the Bloodwalk, stubborn and immovably declining each one of the goblin’s arguments. She needed to do this on her own, something told her that would be best.

She knew she had made the right decision when the storm clouds began gathering during her journey.

She left her mount at the outpost at the border, giving stern instructions to the Righteous Brand soldiers stationed there. There were few enough of them, with something… off… about their appearance and bearing. Only one spoke to her, and only in simple short words.

Even though evening had fallen by the time she arrived at the outpost, Yasha set out across the border. The sky was rumbling with thunder, lightening flashing, though no rain fell. There was something for her to find. She could feel it.

She was not far from the outpost when Jester’s message reached her.

“Yashaaa, Beau wants to know how you’re doing. She really really misses you and she wants to know when you’ll be back. What are you-”

Yasha only paused slightly in her steps as the message came to her, keeping her voice quiet in the stillness of the night as she responded. “Hello Jester. I am okay. I will be at Unha soon and have already discovered some things. I will try to be home tomorrow night.”

The distance to the village was not great, she would reach Unha before the sun rose in the sky. Unless she ran into any problems investigating, she would have her information and be well on her way home by late morning. The winds held the scent of rain and electricity, the Stormlord pushing, pushing, urging her forward. This trail was important.

The rain hit near dawn, as she entered the small town. Almost like a wall of water, the rain fell across the Bloodwalk, crashing down upon anything in its. Yasha was soaked in moments, rainwater dripping from her face, her hair. The BloodMoon Inn was the sturdiest building in the village, service as inn, tavern, townhall; anything the inhabitants of the village required.

The interior was just like Yasha remembered. Dusty and warm, smelling of alcohol and bread, the noise a low rumbling din overshadowed at times by the _crack_ of thunder from the storm. Yasha made no eye contact with the clients of the tavern, they in turn ignoring her. Instead she strode confidently towards the barkeeper, standing and dripping water on the floor once she arrived.

The barkeeper was an aged Drow, her skin wrinkled and marred with scars, hair a tangled mess of white locks.

“You haven’t changed, have you Yasha?”

“Udanna.” Yasha greeted her simply, a ghost of a smile playing across her features.

Udanna brought a mug from under the bar, pouring a drink and pushing the wooden tankard towards Yasha. “You always were one to make an entrance.” She commented, glancing up at the ceiling as a particularly loud rumble of thunder split the sky. “I’ve been expecting you. He said you would come, in the thunder and rain.”

“I need your help again, Udanna.” Yasha spoke evenly, tone calm to convey it was not an issue of immediate danger.   
Undanna looked around at the customers; the group of younger Drow wearing gear of hunters, the goliath drinking with abandon in the corner, a couple of ragged Gnolls. “Come.” She told Yasha, gesturing her behind the bar and leading the way towards the back room.

In the kitchen was a red Tiefling, the young man looking up at them when they entered. Undanna spoke to him in Infernal briefly and the boy left.

“Still taking in strays?” Yasha smiled, watching him leave.

“Those the Stormlord brings my way.” Udanna replied, moving to settle herself on a stool. “What are your questions.”


	15. Chapter 15

Caleb was very grateful the Mighty Nine allowed him to remain in his room for the rest of the day and evening. He had expected to be called for dinner the same as the previous evening, but none came. He did not read too much into the exclusion, instead burying himself in studying the familiar spellbooks. He knew each page, each word, but meticulously scouring over the arcane instructions was soothing in it’s own way.

He had not moved from his position by the door, except for a moment to retrieve some of his books to read, even going so far as to sleep there that night. Even with the noise from the others that next morning, he did not wake in the same panicked rush to click Frumpkin away. He was thankful none of the Nine had tried to enter either, so he avoided any correction for pseudo locking the door.

Standing, he began to put away his books, stacking them carefully back withing the trunk, save the ones within his coat. Those remained with him. Frumpkin watched the door for him while he worked. He silently called the cat to him when he was done, stooping to pick Frumpkin up.

“Until later, mein Freund.” He whispered, letting Frumpkin but against his forehead, then clicking him away.

Fully awake and having spent as much time as he could waste doing nothing, he was feeling the absence of meals from yesterday. Taking advantage of the ambiguity in Molly’s orders from the previous afternoon, Caleb left his room in search of the kitchen.

Five minutes later and he cautiously entered the room, hearing movement but unsure who he would be faced with. Gain their trust, prove his loyalty. He would do this. He had no choice.

“Caleb, how are you? Would you like some tea?” Caduceus greeted Caleb as he walked into the area, looking over at him with an easy smile.

“Thank you, Caduceus, I am… well.” Caleb answered, approaching the Firbolg slowly. He stood a respectable distance away, observing the way he went about preparing the drink. “If, ah, you do not mind, yes, thank you.”

“That’s nice. Go on, sit down.” Caduceus suggested, nodding over to the small table set up within the kitchen. He was glad of the opportunity to check up on the wizard. Other than yesterday morning, he had seen little enough of the wizard, much as Fjord had commented of at dinner. “I often relax in here with some tea, speak with the Wild Mother. There are some fruits and such from breakfast, if you want. Help yourself.”

“Ah, thank you.” Caleb said, moving to indicated seat. Caduceus watched as the man picked at some of the fruits and breads, seeming interested in watching what he was doing.

“I find tea very soothing.” Caduceus said, filling the silence before it could become heavy. “Do you have a particular favorite, mister Caleb?”

“Ah, no.” Caleb replied, hesitant for some reason. Caduceus turned his attention back to the pot of water heating on the stove, smiling to himself as Caleb’s next words held less anxiety in them. “I have not had the…opportunity to, ah, try many varieties. So, I cannot say I have a favorite.”

“That’s alright. I have a very wide collection, and I hope you’ll join me from time to time, see if you can find one to be a favorite.” Caduceus offered, pulling two mugs from the cabinets and placing the leaves in them.

“Thank you, I will, ah, I look forward to that.”

The nervousness had returned, though Caduceus couldn’t imagine why. He turned around with the cups of tea, setting one in front of Caleb before taking a seat at the table as well. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, mister Caleb?”

When Caleb looked up at him, meeting his gaze properly for the first time, Caduceus was surprised at what he saw. Nervousness he could understand, Caleb barely knew them and had only been with them for a day. The fear was unexpected. The mage hid it quickly, looking back down into the cup of tea Caduceus had given him.

“What… would you like to know?”

Caduceus shook his head slowly, smiling reassuringly at Caleb. “It’s not an interrogation, Caleb. You don’t have to answer. I just wanted to know how you are. How are you adjusting? I know we can be a lot. Some of us more than most.”

It took a moment for Caleb to answer, though Caduceus was in no rush. He didn’t push, just waited patiently, drinking his tea. He looked away from Caleb, watching a beetle crawling along the outer edge of the windowsill. Caleb seemed to do better without eyes on him, something Caduceus was willing to respect.

“I am well. Ah, and grateful.” Caleb began, correcting himself after apparently deciding a repeat of his answer arriving in the kitchen was insufficient. “All of you, ah, you have been… most generous, and I thank you.”

Caduceus looked down at the table, not quite at Caleb. The answer sounded so carefully crafted, thoughtful and… subdued almost.

“I hope that I can, ah, live up to your expectations.” Caleb added hesitantly.

Caduceus let out a small chuckled, draining the last of his tea from his cup. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, mister Caleb. I’d be more worried about us living up to your expectations.”

Caleb’s introduction to the group hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, no fault to the mage so far as he was aware. He may have only interacted with Caleb a handful of times, but the wizard had been polite and eager to please. The man was layers upon layers, complicated and very strange, just like every one of them.

On the other hand, they hadn’t shown him their best, not if he were still so nervous around them. His body language, the way he had shied away from Molly yesterday, his reluctance to meet Caduceus’ gaze even in this relaxed setting; it was apparent Caleb didn’t exactly have a positive opinion of them.

“If I could give you some advice, mister Caleb.” Caduceus began, smiling and shifting back to give Caleb more space, knowing that seemed to make him more comfortable. “All of us here have our own stories, our own reasons for joining the group. Your decision might have been made for you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. Just be yourself.”

Caduceus stood up, moving to take the tea pot from the stove and refilling Caleb’s cup. He set the pot on the table, nodding at the wizard. “Help yourself to the rest, if you want.” Caduceus patted Caleb on the shoulder as he turned to leave, giving him a parting smile as he left the wizard to contemplate his advice.

~~

The sky overhead was still grey, the clouds overhead moving quickly as the rain moved east. They cast a grey pallor the Xhorhasian landscape, wet leaves and branches from the morning’s rain giving silent way to the two moving stealthily through the thin shadows.

“They are from the Empire?”

Undanna nodded at the whispered question. The shadows clung to the two of them as they crouched hidden to watch the encampment. The spell Undanna had cast would not last for too much longer, but they had seen that which they had come for. “Their bearing and speech suggest such, though they do not bear the mark of the crown.”

“That one.” Yasha said quietly, gaze fixed upon a tall, broad-shouldered man exiting one of the large tents set up. “I cannot be certain, there is something familiar about him.”

It was nothing Yasha could put a name to; she did not know if it were the way he carried himself, the sharp judgmental stare the man was sending to the men in the camp, or the color of his robes. But something about him struck her with the sensation that she should know him.

“He leads them. Come Yasha. We must go.” Undanna warned, beginning to slowly creep back and away from the encampment.

Yasha showed agreement by following silently behind the Drow, alert for any signs they had been detected. Undanna was leading her not back towards town, but towards the border to the Empire. After several minutes of silent travel, Undanna paused and turned to Yasha. “We cannot afford for this peace to end. Both sides will lose.”

“I know. We do not want this peace to end either.” Yasha replied, glancing up at the rolling clouds above. “We will do what we can.”

Yasha stepped forward, bending slightly to press her forehand to Undanna’s in farewell. With a determined gaze, Yasha turned and began walking towards the Empire, towards the Keep, and home.

The journey was slow, as Yasha avoided returning the way she had come. If any at the outpost waited in ambush for her return, she intended to avoid them. Let them believe their companions at the camp, if they truly were connected, had found and taken care of her.

Yasha returned to the Keep late in the evening, as she had told Jester she would. She was exhausted, had pushed past that point already.

Fjord was the first to see her, the half-orc relaxing in the foyer reading one of Jester’s ridiculous books. He looked up when he heard the footsteps, brow lifting as he sat up. “Yasha! You’re back!”

“Where are the others?” She asked tiredly.

Fjord paused, frowning at the seriousness in the Aasimar’s tone. “I’ll go get them.”

He found Nott first, the goblin volunteering to go fetch Caleb who was apparently in his room…again. Beauregard was in the greenhouse by the garden of all places, swapping insults with Molly while Caduceus watered the various plants.

The three of them looked up at him when he entered, Molly’s grin fading upon seeing Fjord’s expression. “Yasha’s back.” Ford told them shortly. “She’s fine, but she’s got some important news.”  
Beau was up first, heading toward the keep.

Molly frowned, worry crossing his face for a moment. He and Caduceus followed Fjord back inside, the warlock leading them to the Foyer where everyone else was already gathered.

Someone had started a fire; Jester and Caleb sat on the floor in front of it. Yasha had claimed the chair, Nott had brought in one of the chairs from the dining area and was sitting there. Caduceus took a spot on the floor as well, letting Beauregard, Molly, and Fjord claim the remaining seats.

The room was silent for a moment, the crackling fire the only sound within the room.

“So, Yasha, what did you discover?” Jester asked cheerfully, leaning forward with her elbows on her legs, propping her chin on her palms.

“I spoke to my contact across the Bloodwalk.” Yasha began, words deliberate and slow, tiredness evident. “Udanna did not know of the rogue mage trying to cross the border, though there are rumors of supplies being transported through the outpost near Roarksguard garrison. Weapons and armor.”

“That doesn’t sound promising…” Molly commented wryly.

“No, it doesn’t.” Fjord agreed. “Did they know if it were being transported to the Empire or the Dynasty?”

“Udanna believes they are from the Empire. She suspects the outpost is no longer controlled by the Empire nor the Dynasty, but someone else. I do not know if Roarksguard is still secure either. She showed me a small camp of soldiers in the forest near Uhna, soldiers and mages. They appeared well organized, perhaps ten of them in all, and they bore a strange insignia. One I have not seen before. Their leader was a mage as well.”

“But he wasn’t connected to that rogue from Gandre?” Beau asked.

Yasha shook her head. “No. Or, at least, that is how it appears. If the encampment was expecting a new arrival, they did not show it when we spied upon them.”

“You said you saw the leader.” Fjord stated, scratching his chin in thought. “Had he been around the area long enough anyone might have gotten to know him, who he is? A name, an alias?”  
Anything to be able to at least try and track him down, get a lead on who or what they were dealing with.

Yasha nodded solemnly. “I do. The one in charged calls himself Eodwolf.”


	16. Chapter 16

“That is not possible.”

It was the most assertive sentence any of the Nine had ever heard the wizard speak, and all eyes turned on him. Caleb was leaning forward, gaze intense and focused as he looked at Yasha.

“That is what Udanna told me, and she heard him speak with her own ears.” Yasha repeated evenly.

“No! It is not possible.” Caleb insisted, tone taking on a sharp quality. “Eodwolf is dead. I was there.”

“Who is this Eodwolf?” Nott asked, puzzled.

“He and I were… pupils, together at the Assembly, taught by Master Ikithon. But he died, three years ago. It can not be him!” Caleb answered, barely glancing at Nott. It was impossible. _Impossible_.

“Udanna is sure that is his name.” Yasha said again.

“She is wrong, or lying, or-“ Caleb’s words were cut short by a furious hiss of anger . He was suddenly very aware of the lift of Yasha’s eyebrows, Jester’s furrowed expression, the tension in the room. He knew better, he _knew_ better, what had he…

Caleb felt his stomach drop as Beauregard got to her feet with an expression of cold fury. His heart skipped and raced, Caleb looking down as he waited, not wanting to make it worse by moving away. He knew whatever was about to follow would be highly unpleasant, and likely painful, as she made quick work walking over to him.

Caleb winced as she reached down to grab him by the shirt, dragging him to his feet and slamming him harshly against the wall. He coughed as the breath was knocked from his lungs, the sound choked off as her grip bunched the collar of his shirt around his throat. He could still breath, but it was strained and strangled. On instinct, he reached up to grip her wrists, though she was far stronger and he did not manage to so much as loosen her hold.

Distantly, he was aware of some of the others speaking, but his attention was solely on the monk.

"Look here, asshole, there's no room here for you prejudice minded bullshit, so you get your head outta you ass or I'll do it for you." Beauregard snarled at him, pulling him closer so his face was mere inches from hers. "Yash is just as competent and trustworthy as any us, you don’t get to come in here and start throwing shade. Got that?"

Caleb nodded mutely, untrusting of his ability to speak giving the current circumstances. Yes, he understood quite well, it was not his place to question the information brought forth by the members of the Mighty Nine. He had crossed a line.

The monk growled as she shoved him away, leaving him to stumble and fall gracelessly on his ass as she whirled around to storm out of the room. He kept his gaze lowered, shocked at the lack of punishment given despite the monk’s anger, and too afraid to look up to see the disappointed disapproval in the rest of the Nine.

He tried to breath evenly, not appear _weak_ even though that was all he felt. Mistakes like that would get him killed, or rather make him wish he were. He jumped as a hand touched his shoulder, shifting back slightly before remembering himself and freezing. The touch pulled away and Caleb tried to ground himself enough in the present to try and tell if a spell had been cast or if he just… just..

_Such a disappointment, boy, get out of my sight until I decide what to do with you.  
***  
Hours of waiting in a bare, empty room.  
***  
Streams of red running down his arms as shards of green crystal pierced the skin._

“If there’s a third party looking to cause trouble between the Empire and the Dynasty, we’ll need to do something about it.” Molly broke the silence first, watching unhappily as Caleb flinched away from Jester’s comforting touch, eyes distant. “No matter who is in charge.”

“We’ll start at Roarksguard then check out the outpost. If equipment or supplies are moving through there, we can find someone who knows something. Once we get some more information, we’ll head into the Dynasty, find this insurgent group and deal with them. Any objections, questions?" Fjord asked, eyes scanning over the group.

With no apparent questions or disagreement forthcoming, Fjord sighed. "I'll go talk to Beau. Let’s just plan on leaving tomorrow for Roarksguard."

Caleb snapped back to the present as Fjord stood up, all too aware of the warlock’s eyes on him. He was too afraid to look up to meet his gaze, or move at all. After a moment that felt like it stretched for hours, Caleb heard him walk away. The others were standing as well, the meeting having come to an end.

“It’s alright, Caleb.” Jester said to him, once more patting his shoulder. “I know you didn’t mean anything bad, okay?”

He nodded woodenly, eyes flickering up to watch the doorway Beauregard had left through. It didn’t matter his meaning, nor that he hadn’t known the rule existed; both were excuses and those would not make his actions excusable.

Jester made a displeased sound at his continued silence, so Caleb forced himself to speak through the tightness in his throat. “Ah, thank you, Jester.” If she were offering mercy and the absence of punishment, he would do his best to please her.

Nott patted his shoulder as well as she made a point to come over to him before leaving. Caleb could not understand why they were being so gentle. He had obviously broken a rule, upset Jester just moments ago, yet they were simply touching his shoulder and leaving…

Jester followed Nott out, Caduceus tagging along behind them, leaving him with Molly and Yasha. Perhaps that was… It was unclear why the others had left him for Mollymauk to deal with, though that was the only explanation that made any sense. He only hoped it would be less severe than if Beauregard had remained to handle him herself.

The bloodhunter moved over and reached down to pull Caleb to his feet. He dusted the mage off theatrically, giving him a once over to make sure he wasn’t really injured. "Let's try not to piss off the monk in the future, how bout?" He advised, glancing toward where the mentioned individual had exited the room.

The adrenaline still coursing through Caleb was making it very difficult not to shake now that he was on his feet, even with the most pressing threat having left the room. With some effort, he pulled his attention from the doorway Beauregard had stormed out of, focusing on Molly before the Tiefling decided further correction was in order for his distraction.

Molly’s tone had seemed almost amused as he spoke, but not quite mocking, an odd quality to it Caleb was unsure about. Caleb wanted to explain had not meant to anger Beauregard, would happily do whatever it took to avoid such in the future. It would do no good to vocalize such an excuse, and a pathetic one at that, so he remained silent. He did not want to risk further irritating the two he had been left with.

“You alright?” Molly added, seeming to want an answer if the more serious note to his voice was any indication.

"Yes, Mollymauk." He answered dutifully. "I am sorry for disrupting the meeting."

Caleb took a breath, trying to calm himself. He looked toward where Yasha still remained seated, though he did not lift his gaze to meet hers. "I am sorry. I should not have questioned your information."

"It is alright." Yasha said calmly, gently.

Caleb's shoulders inched upward slightly, the mage unable to hold back the slight flinch at her words. Caleb was well aware the sharp edge a soft voice could conceal.

"I, ah, only wished to know how… reliable the source information came from. I do not doubt your capabilities." Caleb explained, speaking carefully to keep the tremble out of his voice. He was skirting the line of making excuses, but he had to try to repair the damage he’d done. “Eodwulf is…” He trailed off, unable to continue.

He risked looking up at her when she stood, trying to figure out if the apology was enough, the thin explanation, or if more were required. Master Ikithon’s preferences he knew of, the signs that indicated an apology was not adequate, that he should beg forgiveness or, on occasion, correction. Yasha’s expression was unreadable, he could not guess what she wanted, how he could fix this.

After a long moment, Yasha nodded silently, and left the room. Caleb would have been relieved if that hadn’t have left him completely alone to face Mollymauk now.

Mollymauk slung an arm over his shoulders as Caleb turned to look at the Tiefling, tugging him along as he began walking out of the room as well. "Hey. Don’t worry about it, I'm sure between Fjord and Yasha, they'll convince her you weren't trying to be a dick." The bloodhunter said, voice perplexingly gentle.

Molly was not angry at least, small comforts. And had apparently, thus far, decided not to correct him for his failure.

“Go on. Get some rest, Caleb.” Molly advised him, giving the mage a slight push towards his room. “We’ll probably be leaving pretty early in the morning.”

The mage took a slow step down the hall, hesitant but moving steadily as Molly waved a hand in a shooing motion before turning and walking away.

Caleb continued to his room, entering and closing the door. He leaned against it as he turned, back sliding slowly down until he was seated on the floor. As the adrenaline drained from him, his legs felt like jelly, a fine shiver wracking his body every so often. Mollymauk had advised he not worry about it, but how could he not. Yasha was, he thought, not angry for all he had apparently insulted her. Beauregard anger was almost surprising in its ferocity. It seemed he had finally found the end of her patience.

More importantly though, was it _really_ Eodwolf? His hands shook as he clicked Frumpkin into existence, picking the cat up and holding him close. He did not dare keep Frumpkin here for long, he could not be sure when one of them would return to speak with him or deliver further correct for his mistake.

He should have known better, would have never dared if it had been any other topic.

But… if Eodwolf was alive…

~~

"What the fuck, Beau." Fjord asked with a sigh, walking over to stand beside the still seething Monk. He’d found her in the yard, arms crossed as she stood in the chill night air.

Beau threw a glare his way. "He basically called her a liar. This isn’t the place for some Empire superiority bullshit. Yasha isn’t worth anything less just because she isn’t human. He doesn't have any right to call her into question. Would you rather he thinks he can get away thinking he's better than her? Or any of the rest of us?"

"Well, I don’t think choking him is the way to go about anything if that’s what he was doing." Fjord stated, tone slightly high pitched as he angled the words more like a joke. He sighed as Beau just glared at him again, then continued more seriously. "Isn’t it just a little possible he just wanted to make sure it was correct? Sounds like he knew the guy-"

"Oh, come on-"

"And he doesn't know how we get our information, what Yasha's connections are. He’s barely been here three days." Fjord pressed. “We know Udanna’s trustworthy, but-“

Beau ground her teeth, rolling her shoulders as she glared into the evening sky. "Damn it, Fjord."

“Look, I know he’s from the Assembly and you don’t trust him, but that?” Fjord scolded, waving a hand back the way they’d come. “Beau, he’s part of the group, we’re supposed to be an example of peace between the two sides. How’s it going to look if you two can’t get along and you’re from the same side?”

“We’re not-!”

“Fjord.” Yasha’s gently voice interrupted them. “Could I speak with Beauregard for a moment?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out.” Fjord grumbled, shaking his head and walking away. He sure wasn’t getting anywhere this time.

Beau watched him go with a glare, before turning and striding across the yard to where the training dummys were set up. Yasha followed along beside her, not saying anything. The silence continued as Beau unwrapped, then rewrapped the cloth on her fists, aggressively punching the dummy.

"Beau..." Yasha spoke gently after several rounds of Beau releasing her frustration, not moving closer to the monk or pressing any further.

"I know, Yash, okay, I just..." Beau started to say, trailing off with a frustrated grunt. She stopped, hands dropping to her side as she took in a few deep breaths. She growled, shaking her head and throwing a few more punches.

After a moment of venting the rest her frustration on the inanimate object, she stopped, one hand still resting on the rough sackcloth. "He was just sitting there, with this cold look on his face, calling you a liar. Just because some archmage friend of his is involved, doesn’t mean he can just..."

Beau let out a low growl, punching the training dummy again.

“Perhaps he could have been nicer about it, but wouldn’t you be upset? If one of the people you had trained with were portrayed in such a light? Or one of us?” Yasha asked evenly. “He even apologized, and I believe he was sincere.” It worried Yasha, how Caleb had phrased that apology, though that was not a topic she would bring to the current discussion.

Beau sighed, shoulders slumping as she muttered. "Yeah, I get but…”

“I have only spoken with him one other time, so you probably know him better than I do.” Yasha told her, stepping closer and shifting to look Beau in the eyes. “But I do not think he meant anything bad.”

Beau held Yasha’s gaze for a long moment, then sighed heavily. “Suppose you'll tell me I need to go talk to Caleb too?"

"Not if you do not want me to." Yasha replied easily. "If you decide to, you might want to give it some time. I really think you frightened him, Beau."

Beau sighed guiltily, before turning a wry smile toward Yasha. "A little fear is good for the soul?"

Yasha smiled, letting the tense conversation go. She had gotten her point to Beau. Instead, she offered her hand to the monk. "Walk with me?"

The last of the tension in Beauregard faded at the offer, and she gladly accepted the outstretched hand. The moon was rising overhead, casting a soft glow on the earth, almost reflecting off of Yasha's pale skin.

Beau figured she would decide later if it was worth it to talk to Caleb, though deep down she knew she probably owed the mage an apology. Again. For now, the night was beautiful with Yasha here.


	17. Chapter 17

Caleb waited.

For what, he was not certain, only that something must be coming, some correction to his behavior. With Trent it would have been the crystals, or being given a necklace and told to go ‘practice’ with the other mages. Mock battle after battle until he was left with on simple cantrips at his disposal, the trial only ending when he would find himself gasping back from the blackness, the medallion around his neck burning white hot as arcane energy released and faded.

_Get some rest._

Mollymauk’s order seemed out of place in the chaos that was his thoughts.

He did _try_ to obey the Tiefling’s parting demand. Yet his mind raced with thoughts of Eodwulf, of the fury in Beauregard’s expression, Caduceus’ advice that morning, Yasha’s cold gaze. The moments he did manage to find sleep were no refuge. Trent waited for him there, the green glow of crystalline shards reflecting on his features.

When the expected arrival came, it was in the form of a sharp rap on the door. Sunlight filled the room, the morning well underway, as Caleb rose and numbly made his way over to the door to open it.

~~

Beauregard waited until the next morning to go speak to Caleb.

It gave her more time to think things over and come to her own conclusion that Fjord and Yasha were probably right. He might be a cold, arrogant asshole, but she may have jumped to her own conclusions about his intent the previous evening. Beau had never been that great at diplomacy, something she guessed was what got her sent to the war effort and not the negotiations when she managed to get to be an expositor. She, as much as any of them, didn’t want the fighting to start back up again, so she’d have to be the one to make some effort.

Gods knew it certainly wouldn’t be a prideful mage trying to mend bridges.

She headed over to his room after her morning workout, standing in front of the door for a few minutes. She cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders and she mentally prepared herself. Apologies were so not her thing. If nothing else, this was one reason to be at least a little nicer. So she wouldn’t have to keep saying sorry to a member of the Assembly.

With one last puff of breath, she lifted a hand and rapped on the door.

When Caleb opened the door, it was with a blank expression, the mage meeting her gaze briefly before looking away. Beau sighed lightly, looking up at the ceiling as the two of them stood in awkward silence for a moment. Caleb didn’t say anything and Beau was having a hard time trying to figure out how to start.

“You mind if we talk for a minute?” Beau finally looked back down at the mage as she asked, pretty sure she didn’t even sound to demanding doing it.

She lifted an eyebrow as Caleb continued to say nothing, same neutral expression on his face. He did, however, step backward and away from the door. She took that as a sullen invitation, crossing over the threshold and looking around. Seriously, Caleb had brought nothing with him.

She’d always thought mages were vain assholes with trophies and ornamental shit all over the place. There had been more than enough loaded on that carriage Caleb had arrived in, but apparently Trent had taken it all with him when he left. Or the driver had anyway. All Caleb had was a trunk full of ragged clothing and dusty books. She’d dismissed it yesterday, distracted by chasing Jester, but it was a little weird. Definitely not what she expected.

She shook her head, focusing on the reason she’d come here in the first place. Right. Apologizing. And not snapping at him in the process.

“Okay, so I’m a little defensive when it comes to… certain things. I guess. Last night, I mean…” Beau started, since Caleb didn’t seem intent on speaking or making eye contact, or any emotion at all. Jeez, Talk about the cold shoulder. “Fine, I’m sorry. I get you didn’t mean anything by it, I just took it the wrong way, okay?”

She paused again, watching him, waiting for some acknowledgement or for him to flip her off, or swear, or something. How the hell was she supposed to get along with him when he was ignoring her? “We good?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, at the continued silence, turning to step towards him. “Caleb, say s-“

Beau stopped, words dying in her throat as Caleb flinched, backing away from her a step before freezing.

What the hell?

“Hey…” Beau stepped back, holding her heads up peaceably. She lowered her tone, concern etched on her features. “Hey, c’mon man, I’m not… Caleb, talk to me here.”

“I am, ah, sorry, Beauregard.” Caleb intoned, shaking as he shifted forward to resume his previous position, eyes glued to the floor. “We are, ah, good, yes.”

Damn… she’d felt a little bad before, but now Beau really felt like an asshole. Looking at him again after _that_ reaction, he looked less cold and distant, and more exhausted. She studied him for a moment, worried and guilty as hell.

“Did you even get any fucking sleep? Shit, Caleb…”

“I did, ah, sleep. Some.” He answered haltingly, hesitation evident.

“Some? Ah, fu- Caleb… Next time just- If something I did bothers you that much… I dunno, talk to me, or hell, send Jester or Molly, or something.” Caleb was looking less and less like a stuck up prick of a mage and more like the scared kids’ she’d helped try and take care of on the frontlines during the height of the war.

Caleb did not understand what was going on.

He had thought he knew what to expect when Beauregard requested to speak with him, though he had assumed there would be little speaking involved. Now here she stood, apologizing and asking him if he had…slept?

He did not understand, but that did not absolve him from obeying. Caleb nodded automatically, agreeing even if the order was perplexing. Why would it matter if something bothered him? He did not speak, having no real question to answer and afraid of breaking whatever mood had shifted her anger away from him.

_Shut up and let me talk._

With a final indecipherable look, Beauregard exited his room.

Caleb backed away from the still open door, sitting down heavily on the bed when the back of his legs touched it. He wished he knew just how in the nine hells he had managed to get away from that talk unscathed.

~~

Beauregard made her way into the yard, paying little attention as she walked, just staring at the ground with a furrowed expression.

“Please tell me you’ve either talked to Caleb and it went well and you’re best of friends, or that you’re just thinking of how to make that happen. Because I swear, Beau, if he comes down here with a bloody nose…”

“I didn’t hit him.” Beau replied to Fjord’s half teasing statement, her voice unusually soft and serious.

“Well that’s good to know.” Molly added, walking over from the barn leading two of the horses. “But you look like you’re trying to figure out how to tell everyone we won’t be having a wizard around anymore. So why don’t you tell us what it is that you _did_ do.”

“Yes, Beau, what _did_ you do?” Jester asked accusingly, popping up from where she’d been laying down in the open wagon.

Beau paused for a moment, attention drawn by the set up for travel. “We’re taking the wagon?”

“Yeah, Yasha left her horse at the outpost, so we’re back to being one short. Nott doesn’t want to ride double the entire way, and wherever it is we go after that, so here we are.” Fjord explained, busy attaching one of the horses to pull the wagon.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Jeez! Fuck, NOTT!” Beau snapped, leaping about a foot in the air as the goblin appeared out of nowhere beside her. The monk clenched her fists, glaring at Nott, but then let out a slow breath as she forced herself to relax. She still felt shitty enough with how she’d scared Caleb, she needed to chill out.

“I just apologized to him, alright.” Beau explained calmly. “Yash had said I really scared him, but I didn’t think it was all that bad. I’m pretty sure he’s fucking terrified of me now, and that doesn’t feel so great.”

“Oh, look. She _can_ be taught.” Molly commented wryly, rolling his eyes at her with a grin. “Maybe now he won’t be so worried all the time.”

Caduceus joined them, carrying an armful of supplies for the road. “I take it you and Caleb made up?” He directed the question to Beau while loading the wagon.

“More or less.” Beau answered, not entirely sure herself.

“Well, you can keep making amends on the road, I think we’re all ready.” Fjord said, looking around at them all. “Where’s Caleb?”

“Still in his room is my guess.” Beau replied.

Nott took out her copper wire, twirling it around one finger and holding it to her lips as she pointed towards Caleb’s room with the other hand. “Caleb, we are almost ready to go and you haven’t been down to have breakfast. Do you want me to bring you something for the road? Youcanreplytothismessage.”

Caleb’s reply was soon forthcoming, tone somewhat hesitant, but he seemed mostly normal to Nott. “I am on my way. Ah, if you wish, Nott, I would be, ah, grateful.”

“I’ve already got some snacks.” Caduceus told Nott before she could run off. He didn’t know what Caleb’s response had been, but he hazarded a guess that no matter what it was, Nott was going to make sure Caleb had some food. Nott gave a nod of thanks, then hopped up onto the bench of the wagon, turning around to watch Jester sketching on the wooden boards.

~~

The rest of the group were already gathered in the yard when he arrived, Caleb ducking his head slightly as Beauregard and Caduceus glanced his way when he walked out of the keep. He was surprised to see a wagon readied for travel. Given their mode of transportation to Gandre, he had presumed they would travel much the same way.

Fjord was speaking with Yasha, the larger woman holding the bridle of a grey and white speckled beast of a horse. Nott sat on the bench of the wagon watching something in the back which Caleb discovered was Jester upon seeing her tail flicking up ever now and then over the wooden panel walls of the cart.

Caleb couldn’t help the tension that filled his body as Beauregard jogged across the yard to meet him. He folded his arms behind him obediently, heart skipping with fear and anxiety at the vulnerable position this put him in. He knew that was the point of the rule, though Master Ikithon had not been quite so capable as the monk to take advantage.

“Hey, Caleb.” Beauregard spoke as she got closer, stopping and half turning back as she motioned for him to follow. He obeyed the silent directive, dropping his gaze as he followed her towards the others.

“Yasha left her horse at the outpost, so we’re taking the wagon. Here…” She jumped up into the wagon, deftly stepping over Jester’s prone form, and kicked around some of the items in there to make a spot. “C’mon, get up here. Yash, Molly and Fjord are riding horseback. You can sit here.”

Caleb glanced over at the stated three, Molly and Fjord of which seemed to be watching this exchange with some amusement. Caleb was not sure what the outcome of this was to be, but he did as he was bid and climbed into the wagon. He was not as nimble as Beauregard, earning a very unhappy groan of “Calleeeeeb” from Jester when he inevitably stepped upon her drawing.

He fumbled for a moment, trying to apologize and move around her without stepping on any of the _other_ items in the wagon, or on Jester herself. Beauregard apparently tired of waiting on him to comply, reaching over and grabbing the scruff of his collar and pulling him around Jester to collapse in the corner. It was undignified, but not painful thanks to the blankets and bedrolls layered there.

“I thought you were going to be nice, Beau.” Jester huffed as she decided now was the perfect time to sit up out of the way.

“I am being nice, see.” Beauregard snarked back, dropping down to sit (alarmingly) beside Caleb. “We’re good, right Caleb?”

Confusion was winning out over fear, though there was a generous amount of that coursing through his veins right now. But Caleb nodded agreement quickly, subtly shifting to sit in a more comfortable (less sprawled) position. “Ja, ah, yes. We are, ah, good. Yes.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this chapter was.... difficult. It didn't flow as easily as others, so... yeah.
> 
> It's so... transitional in my opinion. But I worried that if I didn't get past it... well. Bleh.
> 
> More interesting things to come!

No one seemed to object to Beauregard’s placement of him, and Caleb was surprised to find the mode of travel rather comfortable. Beauregard’s close proximity was less comfortable, though the monk soon ignored him in favor of meditating.

After a few unsuccessful tries of drawing a mustache on the monk, Jester turned to hang her legs over the back of the wagon to watch the landscape as they traveled.

Caduceus and Nott seat on the driver’s bench put them above and slightly to the left of Caleb. Nott spoke to him once, putting some food in his hands and giving him a wide toothy grin. Coming from a goblin, it was rather unsettling, though he did not think there was any ill intent behind it. Otherwise, they both paid him little mind.

It was… the most normal things had felt since he had been delivered to the Mighty Nine.

They traveled for some time in silence, this time not feeling so tense or heavy as it had done when they had ridden to Gandre. If only this had been how he had first been presented to them, not the fumbling stuttered excuse of an exchange that had occurred.

At least he had deciphered _some_ of the groups preferences.

Molly seemed not to have many rules other than the one that had gotten him corrected during that first battle. So long as he was attentive to the Tiefling, Mollymauk appeared pleased. His predilection also appeared to be less towards giving orders and more towards physically directing Caleb’s actions or position.

Jester seemed pleased when he followed her orders, no matter how simplistic they were.

Beauregard was a complication of mixed signals. She wanted him to be quiet while she spoke to him, but gave no indication when she required an answer from him. Threats one evening and apologies the next morning. It was contrary to his complete existence thus far.

The others….

He bit back a sigh, leaning his head back as his eyes closed almost without his volition. He was so verdammt tired… Was he allowed to sleep? Would Mollymauk take exception? Or was it Beauregard who took priority given she had placed him here in the first place? In the end it didn’t matter. His exhaustion soon won over, thoughts slipping into restless sleep.

~~

It was about an hour into their journey before Mollymauk became suspicious at the continued absolute silence in the wagon. Jester was never quiet this long unless she was doing something _interesting_. He hedged his way closer, peering over at the three of them.

“Ah.” Mollymauk intoned quietly. “I had wondered why you three were so quiet.”

“Yeah, so shut the fuck up.” Beau hissed quietly, gaze flickering over where Caleb lay half curled, asleep.

Molly lifted one eyebrow at her, tail flicking restlessly behind him. “It’s nice you’re taking this whole ‘Caleb’s not a dick so let’s not be mean to him’ thing seriously, but don’t take your guilt out on everyone else.”

Beauregard huffed, but ultimately looked away.

Travel was slower than it had been previous. Yasha had made the journey in the single day after leaving Gandre, but she had pushed herself to cover the distance. It shouldn’t have been possible, but somehow she had done it. None of them bothered to ask, knowing her answer would likely be a vague explanation that they wouldn’t understand anyway.

After a few hours Caleb woke, seeming surprised at having fallen asleep in the first place. Though, given the worried glance that skirted over and then away from Beauregard, the monk thought perhaps he was less surprised and more worried. And she hadn’t even done anything… She was just sprawled out on her side of the wagon.

Beau didn’t get it.

She’d apologized to him that morning and he’d said they were good. A little nervous about it maybe, but he’d still said it. And he didn’t complain about her sitting next to him during the ride, didn’t… complain about anything really.

“Caleb! Calebcalebcalebcaleb!” Jester called excitedly, though her voice was lowered. “Come here, look!”

Beau watched the mage skirt carefully around her, freezing momentarily when she shifted her leg out of his way. He made his way to sit beside Jester, mimicking her position with legs hanging off the back of the wooden slats. “Yes, Jester?”

Jester made an odd squeaking noise pointing in the distance.

Beauregard craned her head to look as well, snorting at the sight of a group of ten or so deer grazing in the distance.

“Ah, how, ah, interesting.” Caleb expressed, sounding not at all interested.

Beau frowned, gaze cutting back over to the wizard. He wasn’t interested, wasn’t being condescending, but was vaguely confused? What was so confusing about deer? She huffed an annoyed sigh, gritting her teeth in frustration as that instantly garnered the mage’s attention.

Okay, yeah, she’d made a really bad first impression, but really this was ridiculous.

Beauregard bit back another sigh, watching Jester engage Caleb in an I-Spy game.

~~

Night fell with about an hour’s journey from Roarksguard.

Fjord and Molly had traded places with Beau and Caduceus, leaving Caleb once more surrounding by Tieflings. Though the two of them paid more attention to him than Beauregard had done, he found it was less stressful to please them. Neither seemed as volatile as the monk, their expectations easy to follow.

Jester had been drawing in her book for the past few hours, showing him a few current and past drawings during the journey. He tried to give the appropriate responses to each and she seemed content with that. When the sunlight faded and she complained with a sad sigh, he supplied light with a simple dancing lights cantrip.

Soon enough Roarksguard Garrison came into view, the tall stone walls littered with torchlight that created a halo of light that stretched roughly six feet into the shadows. Roarksguard was named a garrison, as that was it’s main purpose, but it was functionally a small town. The guards stationed at the outpost nearer the Xhorhasian bordered rotated with the soldier’s who lived at the garrison.

As they approached, all but Nott leapt down from the wagon, Caleb following suit a moment behind. Nott pulled her cloak over herself, muttering briefly and then vanishing as she slipped into the bed of the wagon.

“Go on, go. Up with Beau.” Molly whispered to Caleb, slipping alarmingly close and leaning in to do so. He gave the mage a slight push in the small of his back, reinforcing the order.

Confused, Caleb obediently moved to join Beauregard near the front of the group. Caduceus had moved to hold the halter of the horse drawing the wagon, the others hanging back but still obvious all part of one group.

Caleb had to wonder what their reception would be, arriving as they were after the sun had gone down and the gates had been barred. The rest of the Nine did not seem perturbed, except for Nott who had hidden herself with an invisibility spell. After a few long moment, Caleb heard a dull thunk behind the gates, the dark brown wood slowly creaking open.

A guard in golden armour, flames from a torch casting a dancing glow to the metal, approached flanked by two others with blades in hand. The were not aggressive in their stance, though Caleb still felt the tension in the group. He rubbed his fingers together, eyes flickering over them and up to the ones he could not see, but equally knew would be preset atop the wall.

The leader looked to Beauregard first, giving Caleb a long appraising look afterward. They were the closest Empire forces to the border, apparently in control of themselves enough not to be throwing any disdainful looks towards the non-humans of the group, but Caleb could see now why Molly had told him to join Beauregard.

Studiously ignoring all the others, the leader refocused his attention on Beauregard. “What’s your business here?”

“I’m expositor Beauregard, as you damn well know. We’re looking into some shit going on, so you gonna let us in or not?” Beau snapped.

Caleb glanced at her, uneasy but keeping the neutral expression in place. He was put here to be a second human, a sound strategy given the hostility evident the guard’s tone.

The guard grimaced, expression unhappy, but he lifted a hand to give a signal to the others. The two behind him sheathed their blades, each stepping to one side of the pathway to allow the group entry.

The lead guard turned and led the way into the garrison. The two along the sides scrutinized the group as they entered, following behind to shut and barricade the doors once more.

The streets inside were dark, surprisingly well kept given the seclusion of the garrison. The ground underfoot was cobblestone, strangely enough, the horse’s hoofs seeming to echo loudly in the silence of the night. Beauregard remained in the lead, the rest of the group following silently until the guard fell behind and turned away.

Mollymauk slipped up beside him after that, breaking the silence to whisper to him. “The people here don’t like us much. Most of them are crowns guard or Assembly turned crowns guard. I think there’s a few mages still stationed here, but most of them were recalled.”

Caleb nodded, he had heard as much, though less detailed. Through the war effort, many of the students of the Assembly, those not having reached very far in their training, had been conscripted to fight. As the lack of soldiers pursued, those with greater arcane ability had been sent out.

“They, ah, appear to respect Beauregard.” Caleb stated hesitantly, wanting to ask just _why_ that was. If the majority of them here were assembly, what had she done to gain their respect? Or at the very least, their obedience to her demands?

“Respect is a strong word.” Molly chuckled. “But she’s human and we’re not, so they’ll at least talk to her. And you now. Congratulations.”

“Ah, thank you?”

Caleb was saved from further perplexing conversation as they arrived at an inn. The doors were closed and no lights were lit, yet that did not appear to phase any of them. They left the horses and wagon along the side, the invisible form of Nott rustling in the back of the wagon before going silent with a soft tap of feet hitting cobblestone.

“I’ll give Jenna a heads up, you guys divvy up the rooms.” Beau said, hand waving as she walked around the bar and disappeared into the back room.

Jester and Nott, who dropped her spell once they were inside, were already heading up a flight of stairs at the back of the dim foyer. Yasha was a few feet behind them, Caducues setting up some sort of ritual in the middle of the empty floor.

Caleb was curious to what the Firbolg was doing, though Molly looped an arm through his and led him towards the stairs. “One of the Cobalt Soul owns the place… Sort of. So, it’s kind of our base of operations when we do these little missions across Xhorhas, least on this side of the border.”

“Oh, ah, I see.” Caleb stated, quickly pulling his gaze from Caduceus’ setup to the Tiefling.

“You don’t mind rooming with me, do you?” Molly asked with a grin, heading up the stairs with Caleb in tow. “Jester and Beau have been roomies since before I showed up. Fjord and Cad have this weird thing going on with the wild mother, and Yasha got tired of rooming with me a long time ago.”

“Ja, that is, ah, alright with me.” Caleb agreed in confusion. The question itself wasn’t confusing, simply a way of reminding him what he was to do. Or telling him, in this case. But Caleb did not understand the lengthy explanation that followed, the reasoning laid out for the decision.

Molly flung open the door to the room with a flourish, strolling in and throwing himself onto one of the beds. A thin layer of dust puffed up, Molly wrinkling his nose. “It’s not exactly the Pillow Trove Inn, but it’s better than sleeping outside.”

Caleb did not know what the Pillow Trove was, but he could surmise it was a fair sight better than this place. Though most anything would be. Yet it was still not the worst quarters he had ever slept in. He made his way over to the other cot, sitting more gently upon it.

It was late, silent, dusty, and Mollymauk lounged unconcerned a few feet away. The Tiefling turned red eyes his way briefly, then sighed and looked back up at the ceiling before closing his eyes. “We’ll make actual plans in the morning before we leave. That stuff Cad was setting up? He’s asking the Wild Mother for guidance. He does that sometimes.”

Caleb nodded before realizing Molly would not see the motion, so instead spoke. “Ah, thank you, Mollymauk.”

“Anytime.” Molly said dismissively, rolling on his side in apparent desire to sleep. “And you can just call me Molly, if you want.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back lovely readers!  
> Yesterday was not kind, and today was only slightly better. But I live! I am well! So, that is good!  
> Onward with the adventure!

Once again, Caleb got very little sleep.

He was not accustomed to…rooming… with another. Trent had oft left him in isolation when he was not of use; or being corrected. Having another present, unconscious and vulnerable, was an odd feeling. For a very long time, he simply watched Mollymauk, trying to puzzle out what the Tiefling had meant.

_If you want._

Caleb knew very little of what he wanted; there was no quarter for that in his life. Follow orders to survive, please those over him and continue breathing pain free another day. Caleb rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, tension speeding his breath as he wished for, _wanted?_ , Frumpkin’s calming warmth. Not knowing was dangerous, being unable to anticipate what Mollymauk wanted, what any of them wanted, was… terrifying.

Their patience would end eventually.

He flattened his hand out on the mattress, denying to desire. Nien. His _wants_ , whatever they might be, mattered little. Who was he to have _wants_.

_He wanted to leave. A cold night, a heavy hand on his shoulder._

_“Prove your loyalty, Bren.” His master’s stern tone, hand on his chin forcing his gaze at the silent house in front of him. “They are traitors. Deal with them.”_

_He wanted to refuse, but moved the cart burdened and heavy. Ten long years had taught him obedience._

_He wanted…_

Caleb closed his eyes, shivering as he fought back sound, hands reaching up to curl into fists in his hair. No, that was… wrong. That was wrong. He hadn’t…

_Flames in his palms, licking up along the dried thatch, spreading greedily along the roof. Smoke, thick and black, choking._

Caleb shifted backward on his bed, trying to make it stop, to keep himself here. Mollymauk would be so furious; he was not paying attention. Again.

_An outcry of voices withing, begging pleading, calling out his name. Help us, Bren. Please._

_The scent of burning flesh mingling with the wood. The flames, the sparks rising as the roof collapsed._

Caleb opened his eyes, taking deep breaths as quietly as he could. The air was stale and dusty, the room dark. There was no fire, no smoke. His fingernail bit into his palm with a sharp pain, Caleb’s attention focusing on the sleeping Tiefling across the room from him. He had to stop this, if…if he woke Mollymauk…

Caleb rubbed his hands together slowly, feeling the edge of the linen bandages at his wrists. He tried to distract himself, rocking lightly back and forth as he recited his most useful spells, their incantations and components, in his head.

He repeated them all in Common, Sylvan, and Celestial. He began in Zemnian, but Mollymauk shifted and he dared not be so rebellious even in the privacy of his own thoughts. He moved onto cantrips, nearly running through his list before he was able to lay down, sleep finally claiming him.

~~

Molly woke that morning feeling well enough rested, given the flat excuse for a mattress. This dump was useful, but it lacked the necessities for an overnight stay. The Tiefling sat up, yawning lazily, only remembering he had a roommate when he glanced over and saw Caleb.

The wizard was curled up, facing away from him, apparently still sound asleep. The peace didn’t last long, the sound of a palm slapping loudly against the thin door breaking the morning stillness.

“Molly! Caleb! Get your asses up and let’s go.” Beau’s snappish tone came through the door, footsteps fading away soon after.

Caleb bolted upright, scooting away from the door, Mollymauk simply shaking his head sighing.

“Don’t worry about her.” Molly said, giving Caleb a worried smile. The wizard looked frightened. Mostly half asleep, but there was a sharper rise and fall to his chest that showed the rapid pace of his heart. “She’s just pissy because she doesn’t like staying here. Jenna’s not as bad as _some_ people in the empire, but..”

“Ah, I-I see.”

Molly shrugged, standing up and stretching. His distraction seemed to have worked, Caleb at least didn’t look so nervous. The wizard was tense, face flushing as he looked away. Molly tilted his head in confusion, unsure what had proved the reaction. “She’s like that to everyone, if that helps?”

Caleb looked up at then, eyes holding a confused wariness. Molly met his gaze openly, letting Caleb look for…whatever it was the wizard was trying to figure out. After a moment, Caleb relaxed, also standing. “Ah, thank you, Mollymauk. Should we, ah…”

Molly was just as confused as he had been moments ago, having no explanation for why Caleb was so uneasy. He was also just a little disappointed the mage had apparently decided not to take up the offer of using the shortened version of his name. Nevertheless, Molly answered the unspoken question, speaking up quickly as he noted the tension slowly beginning to return to Caleb’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go. Someone’s bound to have food and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Caleb followed Mollymauk out of the room, grateful the Tiefling had either chose to let his pass or did not care for the mistake. Caleb was too tired to care which, only that Mollymauk had not corrected him for it. As they made their way down the stairs, the sound of voices greeted them; a dull background of conversation and clanking of mugs and plates. It was warning enough to prepare Caleb for the townsfolk that filled the tables that were now set up around the room.

Apparently, this place served as a dining hall of sorts.

Many looked like guards either going on or off duty, though a few simple farmers or merchants littered the room. Across the room, two tables pushed together, sat the rest of the Mighty Nine. Fjord, Jester, Caduceus, and Beau were all seated. Fjord and Caduceus were speaking, Jester was wearing a sulky expression, and Beau wore an irritated scowl. Nott was absent, though an unfamiliar halfling sat with the rest of the group in her place.

He didn’t call it into question as he and Molly sat with the others, simply keeping his eyes downcast as they all passed around food and drink. When the hafling spoke to him it was with Nott’s voice. “Good morning, Caleb.”

Caleb looked over at her, blinking in surprise. Looking closer, now that he realized it, he could see it was a disguise spell. “Ah, good morning, Nott.”

“Veth.” She corrected absently, busy filling one of the empty plates with food, then pushing it in front of the wizard.

“Thank you, ah, Veth.” Caleb said, uncomprehending of the reasoning Nott was giving him the plate of food she had prepared. He had called her by an incorrect name, yet she was rewarding him?

“So, what’s the plan?” Nott was the first to ask the question on everyone’s mind.

“Caddy, you hear anything interesting last night?” Molly asked first, placing on elbow on the table as he half leaned to rest his cheek upon his palm as he looked at the Firbolg.

“I asked the Wild Mother and the people Yasha saw are still in the camp.” Caduceus answered evenly, pouring some tea and sliding the cup toward Caleb with a smile and a nod.

Caleb reached out to accept it, puzzled but not about to offend the other by refusing. In any case, he appreciated the beverage. He followed the conversation as he sipped the tea and ate his food, gaze flickering from person to person as they spoke, but offering no input of his own. He would not risk angering Beauregard again. Judging by her expression, the monk was already on edge. Caleb had proven far too adept at provoking that into anger and had no wish for a repeat of the last evenings near punishments.

“So, they’re still at the camp.” Beau began, sliding her empty plate away and leaning back in her seat.

“If they haven’t moved yet.” Nott chimed in.

“Right, so are we headed straight there or what?” Beau continued.

“Udanna said they were from the Empire, so they will likely continue deeper into Xhorhas.” Yasha reminded them.

“Unless they were on some mission and are just returning to the Empire now that it’s done.” Fjord stated. “But we’ll need to catch up to them either way. Easiest way to do that is head straight for them. Let's try and keep one alive for questioning this time.”

“If everyone’s ready, can we get the hell outta here now?” Beau asked snippily, lips pressed together in an unhappy line as her gaze drifted to the locals that had filtered in for a meal at the early hour.

Much as when Caleb had first come down to the dining area, the people were studiously ignoring the group. It ranked pretty low on his own standard of hostility, but apparently Beauregard took exception.

“I agree, we should definitely get going.” Jester commented, nibbling on the last few crumbles of her pastries. “I was talking to the Traveler last night and he said we might want to hurry.”

“Oh, is he giving helpful advice now?” Molly teased, smirking when Jester stuck her tongue out at him.

“Unless anyone’s got any reason to stick around, then we might as well get going.” Fjord cut in, getting to his feet.

Everyone shook their head, Caleb haltingly as well when Fjord’s gaze landed on him. He stood with the rest of them, trailing along as the left the inn. Molly hooked an arm around his, correcting his path when he would have moved toward where the horses and wagons had been stored.

“It’ll take a bit longer, but we’re going on foot. Less expensive that way.” Mollymauk advised.

“Ah, I see.” Caleb responded; confusion evident in his tone.

“We have a bad habit of losing horses.”

“Rest in Peace WC and Loo.” Nott interrupted, pace slowing to join Caleb and Molly at the back of the group.

Mollymauk nodded in mock gravity. “So, we’ve stopped bringing them on missions that are guaranteed to involve a fight.”

“Fjord was getting testy, all the gold we were spending.”

“I can’t blame him, it really was such a waste.” Molly agreed seriously.

Nott snorted, shaking her head. “I still say we should have just stolen those last two.”

Caleb listened in silent confusion as the two of them discussed the merits and drawbacks of the possible outcomes of that past encounter. The garrison was becoming livelier around them. True to its name, most of the population were soldiers, even off duty wearing the Empire’s symbol. They all gave the group a wide berth, many throwing distrustful or downright hostile glances at the non-human members.

As they approached the other side of the garrison, this set of double wooden doors apparently leading more directly into the Xhorhasian forest that was their destination, Molly once again nudged Caleb toward the fore. He moved to stand a few feet from Beau, slightly behind and to the right. When the guard captain came to speak with them this time, he paid no attention to the mage at all, speaking once more to Beauregard.

“Expositor Beauregard.” The captain stated, eyes skimming briefly over the non-humans before refocusing on the monk.

“We’ll be back tonight or tomorrow.” Beau stated snappishly, crossing her arms.

“Would you care to share what _exactly_ it is you plan to do?” The man seemed to be more confident this morning, or perhaps more alert. A night’s rest might have been the difference for his newfound bravado. “Since it _is_ our job to guard this pass, and the Empire.”

“And it’s our job to make sure this peace isn’t fucked up because some idiot does something stupid.” Beau countered stubbornly.

The captain’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing.

Caduceus stepped forward, soft smile in place as he spoke gently. “I think what the Expositor is trying to say, is there’s a possible threat to the Empire and we’re going to make sure it isn’t one.”

There was a long pause, the captain watching Caduceus with an irritated look. His gaze drifted over to Caleb, eyes scanning over the mage scrutinizing his posture and expression. After a moment, the captain stepped back and waved a hand to the others for the gates to be opened. “Who am I to stand in the way of a join venture of the Cobalt Soul and the Cerberus Assembly.”

The guard’s eyes followed the group as they passed, the captain turning and tossing a parting comment at their back. “We will await your…successful…return.”


	20. Chapter 20

Fjord took point as they entered the forest, tree’s gradually growing thicker around them. It was one of the few areas in Xhorhas where greenery was abundant, likely the reason the camp of… whoever they were… had chosen the area. With the thick brush and foliage, they had likely been well hidden.

Beside Fjord, helping blaze the trail, was Beauregard. The monk was looking more relaxed, though still focused as she searched for any signs of travel on their path. Jester followed after with Nott beside her, the goblin’s disguise spell dropping some thirty minutes into their journey.

Caduceus walked alongside Caleb, the cleric giving him a nod of encouragement that the mage took as directive that this was his place in the line up today. Molly bridged the distance between those two and Yasha, the Aasimar being the rear guard of the group.

They traveled in near silence for several hours, low voiced conversations between a few of them cropping up every so often. Fjord led them through the forest, taking a detour around a large swath of poisonous plants that were emitting a foul odor.

Nott scurried her way up to the front as they neared circled around, convincing Fjord to stop to let her collect some of the poison in a few vials.

“It won’t take long and who knows, it could be useful. I could sneak into the camp and put it in their food or drink.”

“That’s not actually a bad idea.” Molly commented, nose slightly wrinkled at the pungent smell of the patch of ‘flowers’ a few feet away.

“Alright. Just be careful.” Fjord agreed, moving over to a fallen tree and sitting down to wait. He didn’t drop his guard, eyes scanning in between the trees as Nott began carefully harvesting her poisons.

“Hey, Caleb.” Beau began casually, leaning slightly on her staff as she watched Nott work.

“Yes, Beauregard?” Caleb responded nervously, attention moving from where he had also been watching the goblin. He was interested in what Nott had planned for the poison, how she would put the unrefined material to use, but he was not foolish enough to ignore Beauregard’s demand for his attention.

“This Eodwulf guy, if he’s really the same guy, what should we expect?” Beau asked, glancing over in time to see Caleb’s shoulders hitch upwards as he shrank back slightly. “Not saying it is. But just in case.” She added, trying to keep her tone neutral and nonthreatening, let him know she wasn’t upset or making accusation. Given her reaction to the subject the first time around, she didn’t blame him for his response to bringing it back up. Even though it made her guilty all over again.

“Beau…” Jester complained, all but pouncing on the wizard as she grabbed him in a half hug, the wizard grunting with a wince as he was pulled sideway. “If he doesn’t want to talk about his old friend, he doesn’t have to!”

“Actually, Jester…” Fjord interrupted before an argument could break out. “It might be nice to have some idea of what we might be walking into. For a change.”

“It is, ah, I-I mean, ah…”

Beau frowned, eyes narrowing at Jester. The monk could tell Caleb was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t making the slightest move to extract himself from Jester’s hold. “You wanna let him go Jess, I think you’re freaking him out.”

“You’re the one who got all mad about it yesterday, Beau.” Jester retorted, though she did release the mage. Her expression was more worried when she turned to a red and flustered Caleb. “Oh, Caleb, I-“

“I’m done!” Nott interrupted, hopping out from among the plants and walking into the center of their gathering. She gave a narrow-eyed look the them all, noticing Caleb’s discomfort. “What are we talking about?”

“Beau and Jester are arguing again.” Molly sighed as answer.

“Caleb, do you want to tell us about Eodwulf?”

Yasha’s question took them all by surprise, she wasn’t usually one to join in when the discussion had taken a tangent into argument.

Yasha had watched Caleb since he had first arrived, the way he had obeyed every suggestion given to him. How the mage had paid such careful attention to Trent Ikithon when he had been with them.  
She had not seen Caleb's behavior immediately after Ikithon had left, she had gone her own way to Xhorhas. But returning, Caleb was as stiff and formal as when she had left. He had started a fire in the fireplace when Jester had asked him to, had sat beside the Nott and Jester when they had asked him to. He had blindly agreed to Beau's vague demands when she had threatened him. That one was not so suspicious; Beau could be very persuasive in that regard.

He had only gotten up when Molly picked him up, agreeing to Molly's joking advice. He had apologized to her and explained himself when it was obvious that he did not care to speak of the subject.  
Leaving the keep today he had followed Beau when she asked, sat where she told him too, agreed to her questions. Attended Jester's request for his attention, even though he had only just woken from sleep.

It was all... so very wrong. She might have been suspicious of his motives if every one of those actions hadn't been tinged with a hint of nervous energy and, sometimes, fear. It was wrong, and she didn't like it.

Caleb, much to Molly and Beau’s discomfort, was staring at Yasha with a look of pure incomprehension. Caduceus and Nott were more confused by the mage’s confusion, Jester (still glaring at Beau) and Fjord (hand covering his face in exasperation) did not notice the confusion and concern flying around.

Beau and Molly shared a look, but Caleb answered the question of Eodwulf before either could question the odd reaction from the wizard.

“He, ah, was, ah… is.. I mean…” He corrected his tense to present, face flushing slightly as his gaze briefly shifted toward Yasha then Beau. Eyes cast downward again, he continued speaking. “He is an archmage, like myself, or, ah, would have been. Master Ikithon taught him as well as, ah, myself. He used to prefer more… direct methods to battle. Brute force was his preference, mostly.”

The tension in Caleb seemed to loosen as he spoke, though not in a way that suggested he was at ease. There was a distant blankness that put all of the Mighty Nine on edge. Yasha’s brow furrowed in contemplation, she had not intended for him to give them the information, but she nodded acceptance of the answer.

“Right.” Fjord breathed out heavily, standing to his feet. This was getting very awkward, very fast. And much as he was concerned about the implications of what he was seeing, now was not a great time to stop and try and deal with it. “Thank you, Caleb.”

Fjord took a short breath, glancing around at the variety of worried and/or tense expressions. “We should concentrate on figuring out what’s going on here across the border.” Figuring out what’s going on with Caleb would be next, but they were already this far into Xhorhas…

Beauregard stood up as well, walking with Fjord as he started leading the way again. The rest of the group resumed their previous positions in the lineup, tone a bit more somber than it had been earlier.  
Caleb was not sure what to make of the new silent tension in the group, though he was intelligent enough to know that it was somehow a result of himself. He could not decipher what it was that he had said that could have provoked such displeasure from the Nine. He had answered their question, but they did not seem pleased. Nor angry for that matter, at least he did not think they were. Just… unhappy.

The mood persisted over the next few hours of travel, the others drifting closer until they all traveled in a clustered formation, Caleb in the center. It didn’t make for the swiftest of travel, but somehow it seemed to ease the tension off a few of their faces. Caleb was not going to question it, he’d learned that rule quite well thanks to the monk, but it was puzzling.

After a while, they stopped again, Beauregard and Fjord arguing lowly.

“It’s not my fault, you’re the one leading the way.”

“I’m making sure we don’t wander into a pack of owlbears or poison plants like earlier, _you’re_ the one that’s supposed to be keeping an eye out for tracks!”

“Yeah, I was, and there fucking wasn’t any!”

“Well you obviously must have missed them, because we should be seeing them by now!”

Molly made his way closer to them, sighing heavily. “Don’t tell me. We’re lost.”

“If Fjord had just kept us going straight, we wou-“

“You’d rather we had walked _through_ the poisonous cloud?”

Caduceus stepped away from the group, walking over to a nearby tree and reaching up to touch the bark. “Ah, excuse me. If you don’t mind, we’ve gotten a little turned around. Do you know where a camp of soldiers might be located?”

Fjord and Beauregard glared at each other, then both looked away and crossed their arms. After a moment, Caduceus turned back to the group with a calm smile. “There now, we just need to go north west from here, maybe an hour’s walk.”

Molly sidled up to Beauregard as Fjord grumbled to himself and used a compass to reorient their direction. He glanced at her, keeping his voice low as he spoke. “Remember what I said yesterday? I get that something’s fucked up but arguing over stupid shit like this isn’t going to help. We’re all upset by whatever the fuck is going on.”

“I know, just…” Beau let out a frustrated sigh, glancing over at Caleb who walked silently in the middle of the group.

“Don’t get such a big head.” Molly told her, tone lightening somewhat. “Whatever the problem is, I doubt it’s completely because of you.”

“Not completely." Beau snorted, rolling her shoulders as she tried to relax. "Your tarot cards tell you that?”

“No. Just common sense.” Molly smirked at her, shifting away and letting her move ahead to rejoin Fjord, the monk giving him a gruff apology.

Less than half an hour passed before they began to see signs of travel, boot prints and wagon wheel indents in the dirt, broken branches, and a few game traps. On guard for any sentry’s or alarms, the group stealthily moved forward, keeping low and quiet as they approached.

The camp site was similar to the bandit camp near Gandre, though larger and better prepared. There were five tents in a loose circle, the ring completed with three wagons. Two were half filled with supplies, the third empty. There were tables and chairs, a workbench, even a pole with a line for clothing. Whoever these people were, they had set up here for the long haul. It was surprisingly domestic, but the presence of swords and pieces of armor proved otherwise.

“Alright.” Fjord whispered after a quick assessment of the layout, glancing around at the others. “No plan this time. Whoever they are, they’re a threat to the peace. Take out the soldiers, capture the leader. Any questions?”

“Fluf-“

“No, Nott.” Molly, Fjord, and Beau whispered in chorused unison.

Caleb cast mage armor on himself, taking in a slow breath and letting it out quietly. He tried to prepare himself to face Eodwulf again, still hoping it was not him. He looked over to Fjord as the warlock spoke to him.

“Caleb, can you make a barrier, make sure they don’t make a run for it on the other side of the camp?”

Caleb nodded agreement. “Yes, I can do that. The spell will damage anything in it’s path.”

“Good. The less there is left, the better.” Yasha stated in approval.

“Let’s go then.” Fjord said grimly, summoning his falchion into hand.

The other’s readied their weapons as well, Caleb reaching into his components bag for his phosphorus. He held the material in his palm as he moved forward with the group, drawing his hand in a line through it as they broke the tree line. He recited the incantation, fixing the spell in his mind as a twenty-foot wall of raging fire wrapped around the opposite side of the camp, catching two of the wagons and two of the tents in its path.

The soldier standing at the workbench in the path of the blaze dove out of the flames, scorched and heavily injured, but still alive as he struggled to his feet, shouting in panic. Two others that had been sitting eating a meal at the table leapt up, one stupidly reaching for a bucket of water, not realizing the flames were magical. The other added his voice to the shouts of alarm as a third grabbed blindly for a weapon.

Two soldiers ran out of the tent that had caught flame, two more emerging from the untouched tent on the other side. The nineth and final soldier dropped the bundle of weapons he had been loading onto the empty wagon, grabbing a blade and desperately searching for the threat.

Out of the largest tent, a robed figure emerged, on his cloak embroidered a symbol with three shards in a row, crossed at the top by flaming blades. His hair was well kept, short and dark brown, shoulder’s broad and covered with an ornate cloak. Seeing him, Caleb knew, heart sinking in realization.

It was unmistakably, Eodwulf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe out there! <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me?

“Sir, it’s the Assembly!” One of the soldiers shouted toward Eodwulf, grabbing a blade and darting forward. The other soldiers moved to form a barrier between the Nine and Eodwulf, each with a weapon though many missing key parts of their armor. Eodwulf himself backed further toward the wall of flames blocking them in, slight smile curling on his face as he caught sight of Caleb.

Beauregard darted forward and to the right, cutting off the two soldiers running from the tent and swinging her staff at one of them. She caught him in the ribs, hearing the sharp crack of bone as she spun to heel kick the other. He went down, tumbling and rolling to his feet, blood pouring from his nose as he snarled and charged at her with a dagger.

Nott ducked behind one of the larger tree stumps, peeking over to fire a crossbolt across the yard, putting the burned soldier out of his misery, then ducking down to hide once more. A crossbolt from one of the soldiers fwipped by overhead, the goblin glancing up at it as she reloaded.

Yasha and Molly moved forward in practiced unison, clashing blades with the soldiers that made it out to meet their approach. Yasha let out a scream of rage as she swung her blade, the first strike swiping over a soldier as he stumbled in shocked fear at her ferocity. He rolled out of the way with a whimper as she swung downward, her blade slashing into his shoulder. He avoided too great an injury, scrambling to his feet to ready himself to attack her in turn.

Molly slid up from behind her, following up her attack. The soldier blocked his first swipe, falling off balance as the bloodhunter’s momentum knocked him back. Molly grinned as his second blade flashed across the man’s unprotected chest, spraying blood as he fell back unmoving onto the earth. His companion took a step back, looking pale as Molly and Yasha focused on him.

Jester moved to stand behind Beau, holding her shield between the herself and the two soldier’s facing off against the monk. She looked toward the center of the camp, Eodwulf backing away and three soldier’s moving to stand guard between him and them. She lifted a hand, summoning her spiritual weapon above the three, giant pink lollypop appearing in a swirl of pink energy. She brought it down with a vengeance, nearly knocking one of the soldier’s off his feet.

Fjord approached a little slower than the rest, gaze focused on the enemy mage as he threw two Eldrich blasts toward the man. Eodwulf deflected the first, the second slamming into his chest and leaving a smoldering mark in it’s wake.

Caleb moved to circle around to find a better viewpoint to be able to counter any spell’s Eodwulf might cast, the clash of soldiers against the Mighty Nine blocking easy sight of the other mage. He turned, taking a few steps left, darting between a tree stump and the empty wagon, coming to a sudden halt as a half armored soldier ducked from the other side of the wagon to block his path.

The larger man swung at Caleb with a two handed broad sword, the mage stepping back in time to not catch the full brunt of the weapon, though it carved a deep slash across his chest as it arched downward. Caleb watched with a feeling of disconnection as his blood sprayed onto the earth, reflexively throwing up a shield spell to deflect the man’s second swing.

The impact of it still sent him stumbling backward, reaching blindly into his components bag and grabbing the first thing he laid his hands on. He pulled out the lodestone and minerals, smearing the grit up his arm as he pointed at the soldier breathing out the incantation in a pained whisper. A thin green ray of light streaked toward the soldier as he lifted his blade for another attack, striking him in the abdomen.

With a cut of shriek, his body and armor shattered into dust, metal clanging as the sword fell heavily to the ground. Caleb fell to one knee, blood coating his hand where it pressed against the wound as he tried to catch his breath, to get up and _move_.

He felt a warmth surround him, the scent of tea and moss, and the bleeding slowed significantly. The pain was present still, though duller. Enough that he could get to his feet, glancing over to see Caduceus with a hand toward him, green glow fading as the Firbolg's attention turned back toward the battle.

In the center of the camp, Eodwulf rotated one hand over his upturned palm, blue arcane energy forming as three darts of energy flow forth. Two flew on either side of Fjord, barely missing Yasha and Molly at his sides, the third hit the halforc’s shoulder, sparks of cold blue energy causing him to wince. He lifted his falchion as one of the four soldiers facing off with them swing his blade.

Fjord blocked the man’s first and second swing, using his shoulder to shove forward and knock him off balance. A second soldier moved in between them, slashing ineffectively at Fjord as well. The other two split off between Molly and Yasha, both landing a gash on their opponents before clashing blades in a furious struggle.

Beauregard found herself pincered between two soldiers, dodging their swipes as best she could, giving some ground reluctantly as their blades landing long cuts on her shoulder and leg. Jester took up beside her, the cleric placing a hand briefly on the monk as pink energy flowed to stem the bleeding and near seal the wound. She waved her hand once more and the pink lollypop shifted and swung toward Eodwulf, clipping him in the shoulder.

With a vengeance, Molly and Yasha attacked their opponents, Yasha cutting through the soldier’s armor and sending him to his knees. Molly cursed in infernal, his own blades missing their mark, though his words caused a flare of flame to lick up the man’s chest.

Nott ducked out from her hiding place, dispatching the screeching soldier in front of Molly as Fjord shifted over to give Jester and Beauregard some support.

Caleb made his way around the empty cart, eyes skimming over to the rest of the group as the held the attention of the remaining soldiers. He turned toward Eodwulf, drawing bat guano and sulfur from his bag, rolling them in his palms as he muttered the incantation and lifted his hand to point at the other mage. With a flash of red, the small ball of light streaked toward Eodwulf, detonating a few feet behind him.

The tents and wagons scattered in debris and ash, though Eodwulf remained standing, his robes singed and smoking. He turned to meet Caleb’s eyes, shaking his head slowly as a wolfish grin curled across his face. His gaze turned back toward the meat of the battle, hand once more rotating around his upturned palm, three more magic missiles streaking toward the others.

One struck Nott, sending the goblin rolling briefly, but she was easily on her feet again and ducking for some cover to reload her crossbow. The second dashed against Jester’s shield harmlessly while the third struck Mollymauk just under his neck, sending the bloodhunter down to one knee briefly. Caduceus approached from behind him, a healing spell glowing from his hand as he helped the other stand once more.

Beau grabbed one of the soldiers infront of her, shoving him behind into Fjord’s waiting blade as she threw all her energy into knocking out the last one standing. The wall of flames still roared in the background, the tents not destroyed by Caleb’s fireball well and truly lit aflame. Eodwulf stood cornered, spinning another magic missiles spell in his palm, one that fizzled out into naught as Caleb stepped forward with a counter spell.

The battle was all but done, but something was wrong, though Caleb could not fathom what it was. Eodwulf had always been powerful, yet he had cast only simple spells throughout the battle. His soldiers had kept the Nine from approaching too close, and even now with them all dead and the group encroaching from all sides, Eodwulf only grinned.

The mage reached into his robes as he stepped far enough back he had to be blistering in the heat of Caleb’s wall of fire. Eodwulf withdrew three iridescent green crystalline shards, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm. Caleb’s throat tightened at the sight of them, fear coursing through him as he took a reflexive step back. His own arms itched with phantom pain as Eodwulf stabbed the crystals into his forearm, grimacing as red blood welled up.

Caleb had a sinking feeling as his once fellow student pulled out a piece of iron, fingers tracing a complex pattern as he spoke lowly. He rolled the metal in his palms, the material disintegrating as the arcane energy burned through it, Eodwulf throwing his left arm forward as he spoke the last words of the spell. All around him movement stopped, the counter-spell Caleb had attempted fizzling uselessly against the strength of Eodwulf’s casting.

For a moment Eodwulf stood, arms outstretched, blood dripping in soft pats into the earth in the sudden silence. He panted from the exertion of such a powerful release of arcane energy, gaze drifting over the Mighty Nine who all stood frozen around him, unable to move, muscles locked in the grip of the spell.

Caleb looked around at them briefly as well, then back to Eodwulf, wondering why he alone had not been targeted by the spell. If Eodwulf could hold all of the others, he would have been able to catch him in the weaving of the spell as well. The wall of flame behind the other wizard dropped as Caleb abandoned the spell, leaving only the flames on the tents and scattered wood ablaze. He moved forward, towards the center of the camp, before coming to a stop.

“Schön dich wieder zu sehen, Bren.” Eodwuld spoke in their native Zemnian, a grin curled across his lips as he lowered his arm and circled around the other mage slowly. Like a wolf, choosing where best to strike its prey.

“Eodwulf.” Caleb replied in Common, eye’s tracking the other’s movements and angling his own body to keep Eodwulf in front of him. After the rage of battle mere moments ago, the calm was eerie. “It has been a long time.”

Eodwulf laughed, a harsh mocking sound. “Still so afraid of breaking the rules, Bren? Come now, haven’t you outgrown your masters yet? Always so far behind. You never could keep up with me, could you.”

“That has not been my name for many years.” Caleb responded, eyes flashing over to the rest of the group who had yet to be able to break through the hold. Damned crystals…

“Yes. _Caleb_. The one rebellion he could never break you of, no matter how he tried.” Eodwulf sneered, spitting out the name as if it were a curse. “You could have been Widogast alone, feared throughout the empire.”

“As you believe you are feared? A rogue, hunted like a dog?” Caleb questioned. He could see Beauregard slowly starting to move, struggling to shake off the spell. “King Dwendal tolerates no mages outside of his control, the Assembly sees to that.”

“Er wird nicht mehr lange König sein.” Eodwulf said darkly.

With a barked word from Eodwulf, the hold person spell dropped from the others. Caleb threw a counter-spell towards Eodwulf, knowing it would not work but trying anyways. With a sharp cut off laugh, Eodwulf vanished from the campsite.


	22. Chapter 22

The silence was ringing, Caleb breathing heavily as he played Eodwulf’s words over and over. Dimly he was aware of the others; Fjord speaking, then the majority of them scattered to search the remains of the camp. He lost track of time for a moment, just staring at the ground in dull contemplation.

Caleb’s attention snapped up to Molly as the Teifling approached, heart skipping lightly. “Mollymauk.” He spoke the Tiefling’s name, unable to keep himself from cringing slightly in anticipation. He hoped the acknowledgement would be enough to ward off the discipline he knew he deserved, at least for now. He knew there was no way to avoid it forever.

Molly hesitated briefly, brows furrowing. “You with us, Caleb?” He asked, tone sounding worried.

“Ja-, ah, y-yes, Mollymauk.” Caleb corrected himself, gaze dropping before he forced himself to look up at Molly. Oddly, the Tiefling had remained out of arms reach.

“Alright.” Molly said, holding out an arm to gesture around the camp. “Whatever all that was, we’ll deal with it later. Okay?”

Caleb nodded nervously, looking away once more. Later. Of course. Perhaps back at the Keep, or the inn… “Yes, Mollymauk.”

“Okay.” Molly repeated, before asking. “You have a detect magic spell? Cad would, but he’s a little busy making sure no one bleeds out.”

“O-of course, yes. I can perform the spell.” Caleb agreed. He knew there was bound to be magical items here, knew of one already. The only item that had held up against his disintegration spell had been the sword, clearly magical. He glanced up at Molly, the two of them waiting in an awkward standoff until Molly finally turned to lead the way, brow furrowed.

He quickly pointed out the magical sword, not even needing the spell, but casting it first as he had been told. Yasha went to retrieve it with an intrigued look, Caleb following Molly and pointing out a few other items of interest. Most were located in Eodwulf’s tent, or what little remained of it.

Besides the sword, the additional items giving off a glow of magic were a box (which Caleb nervously warned against opening at present), a necklace, and pair of bracers.

As the group began to gather again in the center of camp, Caleb hung back at the fringes of the loose circle they formed, some of the tension easing as it appeared none of the Nine were paying any attention to him currently.

His injuries hurt, the exertion of spells tiring, but most draining of all had been the exchange between himself and Eodwulf. Of seeing his once fellow student and long time rival. He was grateful for the opportunity to rest, however brief it might be. He knew the group would have to be eager to return soon, would have questions for him…

He tried his best to pay attention to the rest of the group, mindful in case an order or request should be directed at himself. Slowly, feeling numb and distant, he began the slow painstaking process of attempting to stop the once more slightly bleeding wound. Healing was not his area of expertise; he had no spells to that affect. He did not know if the Nine carried healing potions, nor if he would be allowed one even if they did, so he would do his best with the bandages he had on his person. Unfortunately, this meant uncovering his arms…

He had only just begun to unwind the material when Caduceus approached. Caleb stopped what he was doing, turning his full attention to the cleric. “Ah, Caduceus.”

“Caleb, you should have told me you were hurt.” The Firbolg chided gently, hands glowed a soft green as he reached for Caleb.

For a moment his mind froze in panic, Caleb struggling to keep a neutral expression on his features as he stared blankly over the other's shoulder. He would have tensed, had the tension in his body not already been present due to the pain and Caduceus' simple physical presence. He hadn’t known that was a rule, that he should have said something. One more mark against him. He focused on standing still, waiting.

His muscles twitched at Caduceus’ touch captured his full attention. He managed not to flinch away, panic vanishing to be replaced by a vague surprise when the pain did not increase but lessened.

Healing magic, he finally recognized, a flush of shame and confusion creeping up the back of his neck. He did not deserve healing after the abysmal performance during the battle.

Confusing as Caduceus actions may be, Caleb dare not question the larger man's actions. He had learned that preference early on. "Ah, I.. ah, thank you." Caleb managed to speak around the tightness in his throat, a pathetic attempt that had the flush creeping further up his neck and setting his pulse racing faster.

He smoothed a hand down the still painful, but thankfully no longer bleeding, wound that had completely closed itself up on his torso. Despite his best efforts his hand shook minutely, the mocking voice of Trent whispering cruelly in the back of his mind. Pathetic, coward, useless.

Thankfully, mercifully, there was nothing else to be said as the others had finished gathering, setting their pile of ‘interesting things’ to the side for a moment. Caleb knew he would be spending some time identifying them later.

“Caleb, I know this might not be the best place for a discussion.” Fjord started, glancing back at the others. “But I think we all might need to know just what the hell all of that was between you and that, uh, Eodwulf, was it?”

Caleb already knew the questions that would be asked, simply hoped he would not be disciplined for conversing with Eodwulf. He had enough to pay for as it was, and he hadn’t had many options available at the time. He had not spoken Zemnian, only Eodwulf had done so. But he had understood, had reminded them of his Zemnian heritage… Master Ikithon always said that was intolerable, would breed distrust. He was supposed to _gain_ their trust…

“Of course, ah…”

“Why don’t we start with the easy question, just what the hell was he saying?” Beau asked, moving to pick up one of the toppled wooden chairs and sitting on it with her arms folded over the back. She rested her chin on her arms, looking at Caleb with narrowed eyes.

“He, ah, was speaking Zemnian.” Caleb began with the obvious, one hand picking anxiously at the stained linen cloth over his forearm. “Ah, he said it was, ah, nice to see me again. That was… the, ah, first thing. B-before he left… A-after I had mentioned King Dwendal, he said, ah, he said Dwendal would not be king for long.”

“Wait, he’s plotting against the _King_?” Fjord asked in shocked disbelief. “To kill him?”

“That, ah, would seem to be the implication.” Caleb said, hunching his shoulders slightly.

“Should we go warn him?” Nott asked.

“And tell him what?” Beau snapped in response. “That someone’s out to kill him? Pretty sure assassination attempts are a regular thing for rulers. And we still don’t know who they are, or where they came from.”

“But it’s not just some _guy_.” Jester argued. “They were organized, like a group or something. Didn’t you see that symbol on his robe?”

“Yeah, but a group of who or what?” Beau countered, standing up and letting the chair fall over from the force of her movement. “The King isn’t gonna accept a ‘someone’s after you, but we don’t know who’. We need more.”

“Why would some rogue mage, organization or not, want to kill the King anyway. I mean, he’s a bit of an ass, but...” Molly asked, glancing at Caleb with a questioning look. “It’s not like it would change Eodwulf or any other rogue from being chased down, right?”

Caleb shook his head. “No, it would make no difference who was King. The assembly would still-“

“Unless it’s the Assembly behind it!” Beau accused.

“But they thought _we_ were the assembly here to stop them…” Nott pointed out.

“And you believed that?” Beau snorted, shaking her head. “Think about it, they got one of their mages crossing over here trying to restart the war, why? Distract the soldiers, kill off everyone loyal to Dwendal make it easier for them to take over.”

“Oh my gosh!” Jester shrieked, “Do you think they started the war in the first place!?”

“Wouldn’t put it past em.” Beau said with a curled lip. “Assembly bastards have always been the prejudiced judgmental type.”

This was going in a very _bad_ direction for Caleb, the wizard following the discussion between three with trepidation. It would take little leap of logic for him to be pointed out as a spy or saboteur. He did not want the war to renew itself again; the only thing he honestly wished to do was literally whatever they asked of him. He knew of no plots against the Empire, but would _they_ believe that?

“Enough, there’s no use debating it until we know more. Let’s just head back to the garrison.” Fjord sighed, one hand rubbing his temple, feeling a headache coming on.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, actually.” Caduceus advised.

“What makes you say that?” Molly asked, shifting his weight and tilting his head.

“That captain of their guard look a little off to you? He seemed awfully cooperative only after seeing Caleb, and his parting words were not as sincere as he might have thought.” Caduceus told them, leaning slightly on his staff. He inclined his head as if proving his point when Molly frowned in contemplation.

“Got anything to say bout _that_ Caleb?” Beau asked gruffly, head tilting to look over at him.

Caleb didn’t get a chance to answer as something impacting him from behind, just under his shoulder, sending him stumbling forward. He could not keep his balance, falling onto the ground heavily. Dimly, he heard Jester shriek his name, but all he could focus on was the blinding pain. It was difficult breathing, blood choking his throat as he coughed, vision swimming.

There was more shouting, hand’s grabbing him and picking him up. It was difficult to be afraid, though he knew he should be, but there was already so much pain, the taste of coppery blood in his mouth. The feeling was fading though, a cold numbness gripping him.

A flash of pink energy, the scent of baked goods and cinnamon, and Caleb could breath again, could open his eyes and move, could **feel**. He struggled to get his feet under him, confused at already being in motion. They were running, or as near to as they could having been dragging his near unconscious self. Mollymauk was close beside him, one of Caleb’s arms over his shoulder as he pulled the mage along.

He could hear shouting behind them, not distant enough, and the telltale sound of armor and weapons, boots marching. An arrow flew overhead, burying itself in the trunk of a tree, giving answer to Caleb’s suspicion of what had struck him earlier. Gods, it still _hurt_.

“Got any ideas?” Mollymauk asked, voice sounding loud and shouted beside Caleb’s ear.

“Yes.” Caleb rasped painfully, struggling to keep up and not be dragged by the Teifling as they ran. “One minute, I need… sixty seconds, and I can-“

“Fjord!” Molly barked out, abruptly stopping and releasing the wizard. “We’re gonna need a distraction!”

Caleb collapsed to his knees, momentum and his own weakness sapping his strength. He wasted no time, knowing his own life hung in the balance as well as the others. He pulled out a small crystal bead from his pouch, holding it between his thumb and forefinger as he began tracing patters in the air above the ground, speaking the incantations carefully. Sixty seconds…

Fjord glanced over at Molly, Caleb on he’s knees casting something he hoped would be useful. There was no way they could outrun their pursuers with Caleb injured. It was only a matter of time before another arrow dropped someone else. He hoped whatever the wizard was planning would work. He turned, running to place himself between the oncoming soldiers and the wizard. Time for that distraction.

Fjord’s eyes rolled back, arms extending to the side as he invoked the pact with his patron, heart thumping in unease at the whisper’s in his mind. There would be hell to pay for this later. He pushed it aside, speaking dark words and thrusting his arms forward. A glowing sigil appeared on the ground between them and the army, a flare of heat and red light as a Barlgura leapt up from beneath, shattering the glyphs as it landed on the ground once more.

The ape-like creature roared at the soldiers, halting the onrush. That moment of hesitation was all it took, the Barlgura charging forward and swinging its massive fists, throwing armored soldiers several feet in each direction.

With a glance at each other, Caduceus and Jester stepped forward beside Fjord, each calling upon their patron deity. Caduceus slammed his staff upon the ground, the gem at the top glowing bright white as a flare of insects poured forth and took flight. They glowed with a pale white light, filling the area around him in a fifteen foot radius.

Jester finished speaking at the same time, hand clasping her symbol of the Traveler as she extended her other hand, little pink balls of light appearing and then unfurling into the image of small hamster unicorns. Whatever soldiers broke past the creature Fjord had summoned, would run the gauntlet of bugs and hamsters.

Nott crouched slightly behind Fjord, crossbow at the ready to pick off any that braved the spiritual guardians. Yasha stood along side Beau, guarding Molly as he stepped back to stand next to Caleb.

Beau remained close to Caleb, well aware and remembering the first arrow that had come close to killing the wizard. If he was their ticket outta here, she wasn’t going to risk that happening again. Besides, she suspected he held the answers to a whole lot of her questions. The monk took a slow breath, shifting into a defensive stance as she waited.


	23. Chapter 23

Caleb counted down the seconds in his head as he worked, eyes flickering over anxiously to the cobalt blue of Beauregard’s pantleg. Her closeness was doing nothing good for his nerves. He forced himself to focus, the arcane energy beginning to draw a circle around him. He flinched as Beau made a sudden movement above him, voice shaking as he continued speaking the incantation.

The sounds of fighting, clashes of blades and shouts of pain, were drawing unnervingly close. Mollymauk and Yasha abandoned their positions near him, presumably going to help the others. He could not work any faster, there was no rushing the casting, but he was nearly done.

Beau looked down at Caleb as he spoke her name, gaze drifting to the slight line that was slowly circling around the two of them in the dirt. Whatever he was doing, Caleb was reaching the end of the spell. “Molly!” She shouted out to the Tiefling, tossing the arrow she held away and gesturing to him. She took a step back as he looked her way, calling out. “Let’s go!”

Molly nodded, shouting out to Yasha and Fjord who had moved furthest away to engage the soldiers that had broken through. “Gather up, time to go!”

Jester and Caduceus retreated towards Beau and Caleb, Nott joining them as they moved. The remaining three were not far behind. Jester dropped her spirit guardians in favor of summoning the giant spiritual lollypop, using that as a more visible threat to keep the soldiers a little further back.

Fjord threw a blast of eldritch energy at the face of the soldier in front of him as he backed away, Yasha at his side. Caduceus’ spiritual guardians helped their retreat, the swarming creatures slowing and even dropping some of the soldiers that pursued. Mollymauk’s call was just in time, the Barlgura’s strength was failing, the soldier’s surrounding and systematically cutting it down. More arrows had been fired in their direction in the meantime, Fjord sporting a few of them in his body already.

Caleb completed the spell as the Mighty Nine gathered around him within the ten-foot radius of the Tiny Hut, an opaque barrier rising around them, enclosing the group in a dimly lit enclosure.

“Well, that was not what I expected…” Molly commented uneasily, breathing heavily from the exertion of battle.

“Great, so now we’re trapped in a bubble. They’re not gonna just go away, Caleb!” Beau snapped at the wizard angrily, finger clenching and unclenching as she glared outward at the soldiers surrounding their position.

“Give him a second Beau, I’m sure he’s got a plan.” Molly stated, shifting to put himself a little closer to the wizard and lowering his voice as he crouched down to ask. “You do, right?”

Caleb nodded mutely, hands shaking as he was already beginning the next step, drawing the center outline for a teleportation circle. “T-ten minutes.” He told Molly in an unsteady voice, before focusing completely on the spell he was casting. “…t-ten minutes…”

Mollymauk frowned, hand tightening on the hilt of his blade, unhappy with the pleading note in Caleb’s tone. He tore his gaze from the slight trembles in the wizard, standing and moving beside Yasha and Beauregard to watch the figurative army trying to break the barrier around them. “This is going to be the most fucking awkward ten minutes…”

“Gonna be a damned short ten minutes if they got a mage out there.” Beau countered.

“Well let’s just hope they don’t have a mage.” Fjord growled; voice pained as he began the process of pulling the arrows from his body.

For Caleb, those ten minutes were excruciatingly long, yet far too short. As terrifying as the possibility of dying was, he knew inside the dome they were unreachable, their escape guaranteed. It was what would come after that frightened him. The others were still tense and uneasy, but during these ten minutes Caleb was safe. They would not disrupt his casting, knowing that was their way out.

He did not look forward to their displeasure once they were far away from here.

Beauregard paced around the edges of the dome, like a caged beast, her fury evident even when she was out of Caleb’s peripheral vision. Yasha paced in counter to Beauregard, calmer but very much on guard.

Nott was crouched next to Jester, who was looking more than a little drained. The goblin held the cleric’s hand, eyes glaring out at the surrounding enemy. Caduceus fared little better than Jester in that department, the green glow on his hands as he tended Fjord’s newest injuries was paler. Caleb would guess he had reached his limits in that regard.

Caleb tried to slow his breathing, calm the tremors that made his hands shake. He could not make a mistake on the sigils; he could not fail at this spell. He did not have the components to cast it again. He kept his gaze lowered when he had to move around inside the dome to add the appropriate sigils in the appropriate places, trying his best to go unnoticed, as impossible as such a feat was.

As the designs began to take shape, Beauregard’s pacing was restricted, the monk growling in annoyance but thankfully not taking her irritation out on Caleb. The mage moved back to the center nine and a half minutes later, kneeling once more as he carefully drew the final arcane sigil. With a flash of light, the lines and runes lit up, each of the Mighty Nine recognizing it as the same one that had transported Trent a few days ago.

They all stood within the circle already, something Caleb had weaved into the casting of the spell. With a flash of light and an odd vacant sensation, they landed upon an unfamiliar stone floor in pitch black darkness.

“FU- What the hell!? Caleb!” Beau snapped, spinning around in the darkness and reaching blindly toward where Caleb had been kneeling moments ago. The wizard hadn’t moved, and she grabbed him roughly, dragging him up to shout in his face. “I swear if you’ve fucking dropped us at the Academy in Rexxent-“

“Beau!” Molly and Jester shouted in unison, them being best able to see the brewing conflict. Jester scrambled to her feet, joining Mollymauk as he pulled Beauregard back, the monk stumbling a bit in the dark. Caleb dropped back to the floor as Beauregard released him, a choked off yelp of pain coming from him as he landed.

Molly left Beau to Jester, moving to crouch beside Caleb. He squinted at him as he tried to tell if the wizard was hurt. “Give him a minute to explain himself before you threaten him, Beau! Just calm down.” He snapped at the monk, almost a snarl its ferocity.

“Mind giving us a little light?” The question was spoken far softer as he turned his attention to Caleb, reaching out to touch his shoulder in reassurance. The mage flinched at the touch, surprising the Tiefling as he scrambled backward away from him.

Caleb’s breath was ragged as his back hit the wall behind him, body shaking as he obediently lifted a hand and cast the simple light cantrip. He was not in favor of giving the monk better lighting to find him with, but he would not risk angering Mollymauk as well.

In a moment, several orbs of soft light lit the stone chamber.

“Nicodranas.” Caleb breathed out in quick explanation; eye wide as he watched the monk. He hadn’t thought to warn them where he was taking them, hadn’t considered Beauregard would make her own assumptions. “It’s- we a-are in… I-I could not think of any other… I a-am sorry, I-“

“We’re at my home!?”

“P-please, if you would, a-allow me to message Yussa Errenis and he will give us passage through his tower.” Caleb requested desperately, paying no attention to the cleric’s sudden excitement.

“Hey, it’s alright, no one’s mad, no one’s going to hurt you. By all means, message away, just… relax, it’s fine. You did good.” Molly told him, stressed and worried by the pure fear in Caleb’s voice. He wasn’t sure if Caleb even heard his reassurance or believed him at all. The wizard was so focused on the monk, not that Molly could blame him.

Caleb fumbled for his components when Beau gave a sharp nod, hurrying through the casting of the message spell. He did not bother counting his words or planning the message before casting, desperate to do something, _anything_ , to alleviate the monk’s fury. “Yussa, I have… had to make use of your teleportation circle, I am sorry for the inconvenience, would you allow us passage to Nicodranas?”

There was a brief delay, the terse word’s full of strained disquiet as the reply was given, ‘I am on my way.’ Caleb let out a short breath of tense relief, looking toward Beauregard once more. “H-he will be here momentarily.”

“In the meantime, want to tell us why the hell you thought dumping us in some random ass dark room was a good idea? Instead of taking us _home_?” Beau growled.

“Beau, that’s enough.” Fjord stepped in, frowning. “He got us outta there, that’s what matters.”

“What, none of you think it’s just the slightest bit suspicious that all of a sudden Caleb joins us and suddenly Roarksguard’s entire army is out to kill us?” Beau argued. “Even Caduceus said the captain there only let us go when he saw Caleb!”

“That wasn’t to imply that Caleb had anything to do with that.” Caduceus defended, leaning tiredly on his staff. “Only that there was something not quite right going on.”

“They went after him first, Beau, they nearly killed him. This is not his fault.” Yasha said gently, brow furrowed in concern. “I know you know this, why are you so angry?”

Beauregard let out a wordless snarl of frustration, Molly shifting closer to the wizard when Caleb flinched again. She felt a little guilty for scaring him, for grabbing him again like she had, but she didn’t want to accept the newest suspicions that had occurred to her. The monk paced furiously for a moment, leaving Jester and Yasha between herself and Caleb.

“Jenna!” Beau barked out as she came to a standstill, wanting so badly to punch something. “Jenna should have known! There’s no _way_ she lived there and- and didn’t…. It doesn’t make sense!”

“You think… the Cobalt Soul is in on it?” Jester was the one to ask, tone uncharacteristically subdued and worried. “Or some of them, at least?”

Yussa’s arrival was heralded by a thin seam appearing in one of the walls, the stone sliding away to reveal a doorway and effectively ending the ongoing conversation. Into the teleportation room walked an older elf, dark-skinned with short stark white hair curled up into a wave swipe. His expression was cold as he surveyed the group gathered.

His eyes fell on Caleb first, narrowing at the state of the wizard pressed against the far wall, purple Tiefling hovering over him. His gaze then traveled over the rest of the group, evaluating each of their expressions and postures. It was quiet for a moment, none of them moving as he watched them. His attention was drawn to Fjord as the warlock stepped forward, a silent indication of his status as leader.

“I apologize for us dropping in on you so unexpected. We found ourselves in a bit of trouble and Caleb brought us here to get us out of it.” Fjord stated, gesturing to the wizard behind him as he did so.

Caleb winced, looking away and Yussa knew that nothing had changed for him. The only difference was _this_ one had better manners than Trent.

He held his head high, gazing coldly at Fjord. “Very well. As Caleb and I have an existing agreement to the use of my teleportation circle, I will extend such to you as well. Now if you do not mind, I have my own business which you have disrupted. Wensforth will see you out.”

Yussa turned and strode away, leaving behind a very well-dressed goblin man wearing a double-breasted vest, a pair of spectacles on the edge of his bulbous, pointed nose. He blinked at them, reaching up to scratch his balding head.

“Right this way, if you don’t mind.”


	24. Chapter 24

Caleb let out a shaky breath, using the wall behind him to pull himself to his feet. He kept his gaze down, staying very still as Beauregard turned her attention to him, the only motion a fine tremor that shivered through him every so often.

Beau let out a very long sigh, shoulders dropping as Caleb wouldn’t even look at her. Fuck. She hadn’t meant to lose her temper like that. Yasha was right, it wasn’t Caleb’s fault. Fjord was _also_ right, it had been Caleb who had gotten them out of there at all in the end.

Fjord stepped up beside Beau, glancing between her and Caleb, then looking over to Wensforth, the goblin patiently waiting while watching them expectantly. “We can deal with it later, Beau, we should probably leave. Like now.”

“Fjord…” Beau started to say, trailing off as she looked away.

“Look, we’ll talk about it later, let Molly and Jester help Caleb, he seems more comfortable with them.” Fjord insisted, still keeping his voice down.

Beau nodded reluctantly. Yasha, Caduceus, and Nott were already moving to following Wensforth out of the stone room. Caleb likely wasn’t going to want to come anywhere near her (not that she blamed him right now), so she turned to follow the other three, Fjord beside her.

Molly watched the others leaving, wanting to groan as it looked like they were leaving it up to him and Jester to calm Caleb down. Not that he knew just how the hell to do that. He took a step back from Caleb carefully, keeping his hands low. He glanced over at Jester as she slowly approached as well, hoping she would have some words of wisdom.

“C’mon Caleb.” She said gently, also keeping out of arms reach of Caleb. “Don’t worry, you’re safe, Beau’s not mad at you, not really.” She glanced at the door, whispering unsurely. “I don’t think…”

Caleb nodded, breath still coming a little too quickly for any of them to even pretend he was okay. He didn’t move, however, and Molly quickly realized the wizard wasn’t about to do anything without prompting. Damn it… He took a slow breath, trying to put as much calmness into his expression as he could, then moved in front of the wizard.

“Hey Caleb.” He spoke gently as the mage looked up to meet his gaze. “You did great, alright? We’re not going to hurt you. So, think we can get out of here? That Wensforth fellow is already showing the others out.”

“Y-yes, Mollymauk.” Caleb agreed quickly, pushing away from the wall and taking a step forward when Molly turned to lead the way.

The bloodhunter kept the smile on his face, though it soon faded when he turned away from the mage. He hated that he needed to assure Caleb they wouldn’t hurt him, but it had become abundantly clear that’s what Caleb currently expected. Whether that was all thanks to Beau, or (as Molly was starting to suspect) part of a larger issue…

At least Caleb was talking again, but his quick willingness to comply to the suggestion wasn’t exactly reassuring. And this wasn’t the first time he’d simply stood waiting for someone to direct his movements… Mollymauk didn’t like where this line of thought carried him, at all.

Jester trailed along after Caleb, wishing she had some more healing spells left for him. It looked like he could use them. He was limping slightly, favoring the side that had been hit by that first arrow. Beyond that he seemed really unsteady, like he just needed to sit down and breath for a while.

They made slow progress down the stairway, reaching the bottom sometime later. The room was remarkably well organized for the amount of clutter and items it held. The flooring was a dark brown wood, the center of the room clear but for a single round table with two chairs.

Fjord and Beau were already walking out the open doorway, Nott casting a quick disguise spell and taking on the appearance of a halfling before following them out.

Caduceus turned to Wensforth, nodding his head in thanks. “Please let Yussa know we appreciate his hospitality and help. We’ll try not to make this a habit.”

“Of course, of course.” Wensforth nodded agreeable, one hand righting the spectacles on his face as Caduceus turned and left.

“Oh man, oh man, I don’t have any more spells left…” Jester said worriedly, dancing from foot to foot and wringing her hands for a moment. She took a few steps toward the open door, frowning for a moment. She gave a small gasp, turning to smile at Caleb. “Caleb, could you-“

Yasha stepped in between them, facing Jester. “Could I speak to you, for a moment, Jester?”

Jester nodded, puzzled, but stepped aside with the larger woman.

Yasha glanced over at Caleb, the mage shrinking in on himself as he stood apologizing to Molly, having apparently run into the Tiefling when flinching away from Yasha’s sudden movement. She frowned unhappily at the thought of having scared him but focused on Jester again. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to ask him to do things.”

“I was just going to see if he had any spells to make me look different.” Jester explained, brows furrowed in guilty worry. “I would cast it on myself, but I’m all out!”

“I know… I just…” Yasha hesitated, knowing the importance behind Jester’s request, but not wanting Caleb to feel forced into anything. “Maybe let him know it’s okay if he doesn’t want to?”

“Well, he is pretty scared right now.” Jester agreed softly. It wasn’t difficult to see Caleb’s fear, and she would have some strong words for Beau about that later. “I’ll do my best. And if he doesn’t want to, that’s okay, I’ll just be really careful.”

Yasha nodded accepted, stepping back and walking with Jester as the rejoined the others.

“Hey, Caleb.” Jester began, smiling at the wizard when he looked toward her nervously.

“Y-yes, Jester?”

“If you want to, and it’s okay if you don’t, do you have a disguise spell that could make me look different, just like human or something?” Jester asked.

“Of course, yes I-“ Caleb began, hands still jittery as he lifted them to cast the spell.

“You don’t _have_ too.” Jester interrupted, her own voice taking on an anxious quality. “It’s okay, just you know I told you about that guy, and he’s still probably pr-etty mad, so it’s not so good for me to just walk around, you know.”

Caleb stopped; hand half outstretched to cast the spell. He watched her silently for a moment, expression confused and nervous, gaze searching her face for some indication of what she wanted.

“But you can, if you want to, it would be really helpful.” Jester added into the awkward silence. “But only if you-“

“Jester.” Yasha sighed, cutting off the blue Tieflings rambling. She could tell it was only confusing Caleb and increasing the tension. She had only been trying to help by warning Jester, but that seemed to have backfired on them both.

“Just cast the spell, Caleb. I think we’re overstaying our welcome.” Molly advised gently.

Yasha could see the hurt and worry on the bloodhunter’s face when Caleb flinched at even that soft advice, Molly sliding another foot away from the wizard as a result. Caleb obeyed, of course, and soon Jester bore the appearance of a human.

Jester and Yasha walked out the door after that, Caleb and Molly about to follow before a voice called out stopping them.

“Caleb.” Yussa spoke the wizard’s name, emerging from what had appeared to be a solid stone wall covered by racks of ornamental items.

Caleb made an aborted move as if to walk toward Yussa, before glancing at Molly with a worried expression. Molly grimaced, trying to turn it into a reassuring smile. “You don’t need my permission.” He told Caleb, though nodded to make things easier for the wizard.

Molly watched Caleb walk hesitantly toward the other mage, steps growing less halting the further he got from Mollymauk. Yussa’s lips moved silently, fingers twirling in the air, though Molly had no idea what he was doing. Caleb didn’t _look_ worried (not about Yussa anyway), so the blood hunter remained where he stood, waiting uneasily at the obvious spell being cast.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying when Caleb reached Yussa, the two either speaking too quietly or it was a silence spell, which Molly thought was the most likely option. Molly was fine with them having their privacy, so long as Caleb continued to look a little less terrified with each passing second and Yussa didn’t try anything.

Yussa pulled out a small pouch, offering it to Caleb as his mouth moved silently. Caleb accepted the bag, though was shaking his head as he answered what Molly guessed was a question from Yussa. Fuck, why hadn’t he learned how to read lips…

Caleb shook his head again, replying to (presumably) another one of Yussa’s questions, and the elven mage slowly nodded once. He lifted a hand and paused, only reaching out to touch Caleb’s shoulder when the wizard nodded acceptance.

Molly frowned, concerned by the picture he was slowly putting together. It was almost painful, watching the tension just bleed from Caleb at the simple touch, far too telling of the wizards view of the rest of them. Molly was also beginning to suspect that they had just met one of Caleb’s (likely few) friends, and they hadn’t made a good impression on him.

Caleb tucked the pouch Yussa had given him into his components bag, turning away and walking back to Molly as Yussa removed his hand. Yussa watched him for a moment, then his gaze flickered over to meet Molly’s, eyes going colder as he regarded the Tiefling.

Molly had oh so many questions, but he didn’t think he would get many answers right now. Not to mention he didn’t think it would be too great of an idea to linger long enough that one (or all) of the rest of the group would come back in looking for them.

Molly paused long enough to issue a heartfelt “thank you” to Yussa, then turned to lead the way outside.

It was still early afternoon in Nicodranas, the sky a clear blue with the scent of salt and seawater, the dull cry of seagulls drifting dimly from the direction of the docks. Most all of them had visited Nicodranas before, though they had never known exactly what, or as the now discovered, _who_ was in this tower.

Jester spread her arms wide, spinning in a circle as she took a deep breath of sea air. Yasha and Beauregard could tell her cheer was somewhat forced, but they didn’t call her out on it. Jester grinned at them all, waving them along as she headed toward the Opal Archways District. “Come on you guys, let’s go see my momma!”

The group followed Jester in silence, too tired to try and mimic her upbeat attitude. Nott drifted back to walk next to Caleb, hoping she would be less likely to worry him given her relatively small size.

“Jester’s mother lives at the Lavish Chateau, she’s the Ruby of the Sea.” Nott explained, giving Caleb a half smile when his gaze met hers briefly. He looked worried still, but not quite so afraid as earlier. “It’s a nice place, and very safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all who celebrate: Happy Easter!!


	25. Chapter 25

The Lavish Chateau was as beautiful as the Nine remembered; three stories tall, a kaleidoscope of colors on the stained-glass windows, with sky blue stone that stood out against the rest of the buildings surrounding it. Even in late afternoon hour, it did not lack in customers today. Jester led the group up the steps toward the double doors, winking cheerily at the two Zhelezo stationed there, throwing both doors open as she strode inside with forced cheer.

A young human man in his early twenties stood behind a desk, looking up from a book as they entered. His eyes skimmed warily over the battle worn group, widening slightly as he took in their appearance. “Oh m- Can I help you?”

“Tyral! It’s me!” Jester cheered.

“Oh? OH! Jester, I see.” Tyral said after a moment scrutinizing her. “Welcome home.”

“Is my momma available?” Jester asked hopefully.

“I am sorry, but she is entertaining today and into the evening. Though…” Tyral’s eyes skimmed over Jester and the rest of the group again pointedly. “Perhaps that is for the best. You may… forgive me for saying so, but you may want to freshen up before seeing miss Lavorre.”

Jester looked down at herself, noticing for the first time that, while Caleb had disguised her to appear human, the blood and grit from battle were still present and visible on her clothing. “Oh, wow, that’s a good idea.” She agreed, also looking over the others. Fjord and Caleb looked the _worst_ , all covered in blood. She definitely didn’t want to worry her momma showing up like this. “Can we get some rooms?”

“Of course, let me see here…” Tyral consulted his book, scribbling in it for a brief moment, then leaned down to retrieve some keys from behind his work desk. “Here we are.”

Jester thanked him, handing a key to Molly and Caduceus, then looping an arm into Beau’s and Yasha’s and ‘letting’ them escort her up the stairs.

“Someone will come up with some food later, alright?” Molly told Caleb as he led him up the stairs and to their room. He stopped at the door, unlocking and opening it but staying outside. “We’ll talk about all that… tomorrow, when everyone’s had a chance to rest and clean up.”

“I am sorry, for-“ Caleb began, not meeting Molly’s gaze.

“Hey, no. You don’t need to apologize, you did great, no one’s blaming you for anything.” Molly assured him, leaning sideways to try and catch his eye. “Beau was being an ass, we’ll talk to her, she knows you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Caleb flushed, meeting Molly’s gaze briefly before looking away.

Mollymauk sighed quietly, obviously Caleb didn’t quite agree with him on that point. “None of us want to hurt you, Caleb. I promise, we just want to help. Okay? The others will tell you the same thing, and we can talk about that later. But really. You did _good_.”

“Ja, ah, o-okay.” Caleb agreed.

Accepting that was a far as he was likely going to get with Caleb for the time being, he shooed the wizard carefully towards the room, making sure not to get anywhere near arm’s length of him. “Try and get some rest, if you can.”

Caleb walked into the room, glancing back uneasily at Mollymauk. The Tiefling only gave him a half smile, reaching to pull the door closed and, presumably, walking away.

Caleb closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath at the silence as he sat upon the bed. They had left him alone, whole, unharmed, in one piece. Just like Molly had said. They hadn’t hurt him, punished him for all his failings. He didn’t understand why.

Beauregard suspected he was to blame for the attack, not that she had ever trusted him really, and he had thought her first priority once in some form of privacy would be questioning him. That they would _all_ want answers. But Molly had said he’d done nothing wrong, so… he at least did not have suspicions. Or did not voice them.

Caleb flinched at a knock on the door sometime later, standing and moving to open it warily. It was one of the employees of the chateau, bearing food as promised. He accepted it with thanks, though he couldn’t stand to eat anything at the moment. Instead he placed it on one of the end tables, moving back to his bed and curling up on his side.

After a few nervous breaths, he clicked his fingers, summoning Frumpkin. The fey cat let out a concerned meow, nuzzling up beside him and purring as Caleb curled around him.

Caleb was sore, exhausted, and afraid. He just wanted to sleep, to have the racing heartbeat calm, to stop shaking. Yussa had helped, had wanted to do more, but Caleb’s reasoning for refusal had not changed.

He worried the Mighty Nine would ask about the agreement, and Caleb was unsure how they would react. Would the same story work for them? Master Ikithon had not cared, only pleased the circle was available to him.

They would ask about Eodwulf, he had not completely answered them about his history with the other mage. Beau would ask about Roarksguard and her suspicions, for all Molly had said she knew it was not his fault. Frumpkin meowed again, nipping at his fingers, and Caleb realized his breaths were coming far too quickly, his heart racing as his hands shook.

He knew he shouldn’t have Frumpkin here, it was too dangerous. Mollymauk could return to the room at any time, or any one of the others. But…

Just a few minutes. He would allow himself this weakness just for a few minutes, until he could calm down. He lay there, listening to Frumpkin purr, matching his breathing with the steady rise and fall of the cat’s volume, not even realizing when he fell asleep.

~~

Molly only walked a few steps down the hall before he had to stop, bracing on hand against the wall as he closed his eyes and just let out a slow breath.

Caleb was afraid of them. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe because the majority of them were from Xhorhas and Beau was just an ass? Eodwulf had said something about rules though, but whose? The Assembly? Buea had said mages weren’t held in high regard (and annoying had so far acted with that mindset), but she didn’t mention anything about them having a set of rules to follow.

Molly growled curses quietly to himself in Infernal, opening his eyes as he continued. He quickly found the others all gathered in one of the rooms they’d been given. Caduceus stood against the far wall, Nott perched on a chair beside him. Jester was rifling through a closet, probably looking for some clean clothing, with Yasha leaning against the wall a foot or so away. Beauregard sat on the bed, feet planted on the floor as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

Fjord paced the room, glancing up at Molly as the Tiefling entered.

“Beau, don’t think of this as an intervention.” Fjord began.

“But it’s definitely an intervention.” Molly interrupted, shooting the half orc a thin glare before focusing back on Beauregard. “What is _wrong_ with you? What the hell were you thinking?”

“That I would rather the new guy be responsible for all this shit rather than someone in the cobalt soul.” Beau answered, blunt and honest, hands clasp together as she stared at the floor.

“You want to blame the Assembly, I get it.” Fjord stated, meeting Beau’s gaze when she glanced at him. “But-“

“He’s not exactly your typical Assembly wizard, if you’d pay a-fucking-ttenion.” Molly interrupted again, waving his hand at the glare he received from Fjord. “This is the second time you’ve threatened him when he didn’t do a damned thing to deserve it!”

“Beau, you really really scared him!” Jester chided, turning from her rifling and putting her hands on her hips. “None of that was his fault! He did really good casting that barrier spell, then teleporting us.”

“I know…”

“And then you accuse him of bringing us to the Assembly, but he knew you didn’t like them or trust them or-“

“I _know_ , Jester.” Beau interrupted, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I fucked up really bad, I get it, I just…”

“Besides Beau’s obvious disregard for Caleb’s peace of mind.” Molly snapped, narrowing his eyes at Beau when she scowled at him. She looked away, knowing the dig was well deserved. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the beginning of the problem.”

“Molly’s right.” Caduceus picked up, nodding slightly. “Caleb was nervous from the moment he arrived at the keep. I thought that might just be that he was in a new place, with new people, but…”

“He is afraid of us.” Yasha supplied decisively.

“But why though?” Nott asked, worry in her tone. “Other than Beauregard, none of us have hurt him, or even threatened him.”

“Oh, tha-“

“Beau…” Fjord interrupted the monk with a warning tone.

Beau sighed, crossing her arms and shifting back on the bed to sit against the wall. “All right, fine. That’s fair. I deserve that. And any other comments.”

“I’d guess it has something to do with those ‘rules’ Eodwulf mentioned. Either that or it’s because we’re all from Xhorhas, and Beau’s done a decent job terrifying him. But to get anything more specific, or even know for sure, we’ll need to talk to Caleb.” Molly signed, moving over to poke idly through the items on the dresser. “Beau, you said that mages in the Empire aren’t well respected, you know anything about any rules they have to follow.”

“Not that I know of. Just that they can’t work for anyone but the crown.” Beau admitted. “I never paid much attention to how they were trained, though. If we take a trip to Zadash, I can ask around at the Valley Archive. Dairon was there, last I heard, she’d know more about the Assembly methods.”

“We can look into seeing if we can find any information about that emblem that Eodwulf was wearing.” Caduceus added. “Two birds with one stone, as it were.”

“You’ll want to be careful.” Beauregard advised. “If I’m getting info from Dairon, I won’t be able to be your escort researching. If this really involves people from the cobalt soul…”

“We don’t want to tip them off.” Fjord finished, grimacing.

“Right.” Beau nodded. She frowned, looked down at her hands. “Look, I’m really sorry about the whole thing with Caleb. I’ll… I’ll apologize to him, but I don’t think he’ll wanna talk to me.”

“I think he would do whatever we told him.” Yasha said softly, moving from her position by the closet to go sit next to Beau.

“I’ve noticed something similar to that.” Molly agreed. “Last two battles, and back at the tower, he wouldn’t move until directed, or had someone to follow.”

“Fuck… that doesn’t exactly make me feel better.” Beau muttered miserably.

“It’s not supposed to.” Molly snapped, tone just a little hostile. He let his proverbial hackle lie down when Beau didn’t make any returning snarky comments. She was still on his shit list right now, but she was at least remorseful enough for him to stand down, at least for tonight.

He sighed after a moment, turning away from the dresser. “I’ll talk to Caleb, try and build some kind of real trust. Maybe we can figure out what’s going on.”

“We’ll head out for Zadash day after tomorrow then?” Fjord suggested, glancing between the group. “That’ll give Jester some time to visit her mom, Nott can visit her family, check on Luke and Yezza. The rest of us can get some supplies, figure out the best way to get there...”

Molly was less interested as the conversation turned toward planning the trip, most of the other’s checking out as well until it really boiled down to Fjord and Caduceus. The two of them wandered out of the room, Nott tailing along after them chiming in every so often.

The other three had, apparently, claimed this room. Nott would find her way to Yezza for the evening he was sure, and Caduceus and Fjord were probably heading towards their own room. The Tiefling left, heading tiredly back to his and Caleb’s room. It was barely evening, but he felt exhausted.

Molly entered the room as quietly as he could, carefully shutting the door silently behind him. Caleb was on his own bed, for all appearances deep asleep. Good, the poor wizard needed the rest after this cluster fuck of a day. He took a step toward his own bed but stopped in confusion as a hint of motion caught his eye.

Molly’s tail flicked back and forth, head tilting slightly as he regarded the cat stretched out beside the sleeping wizard. Well, this was unexpected. “Hello.” He whispered quietly, voice little more than a low rumble so as not to wake Caleb. “I suppose you belong to him?”

The cat narrowed its eyes at him as Molly moved closer, the Tiefling crouching down to look at the feline. Molly’s lips twitched in a half grin as the cat flattened its ears, tail lashing. Oh, yes, the cat was definitely giving him a warning. Not that he listened.

Silently, Molly reached out as if to touch Caleb and, just as silently, the cat lashed out with its claws.

Molly pulled back, looking at the stinging scratches. He shook his injured hand, nodding at the cat with approval. “Good, he needs all the protection he can get.” He commented softly, straightening and walking over to his own bed, laying down and turning his back to the both of them.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chucks chapter at you all and runs*

Caleb woke slowly, sitting up and blinking blearily at the ornate walls of the Lavish Chateau as his internal clock righted itself. He did not remember falling asleep, did not remember having any dreams for that matter. That was a new occurrence, though perhaps not unexpected given the exhaustion he had felt. Reflexively, he looked beside him, searching for Frumpkin.

“Nice cat.”

_No._ Caleb’s blood froze, icy panic shooting through him as he looked over at Mollymauk, Frumpkin sitting in the Tiefling’s grasp. “M-mollymauk, I… bitte, p-please, don’t-“

“Hey, relax, it’s fine.” Molly stopped him, brow furrowing.

Caleb scrambled to sit upright, eyes darting between Frumpkin and Molly, heart pounding as he tried to get his hands to move through the paralyzing fear. He should not have-

Caleb flinched back when the Tiefling stood, shrinking away from him with ragged breath. Molly placed Frumpkin on the edge of Caleb’s bed, then backed away with his hands up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross a line. He came up to me, I was just trying to be polite.”

Frumpkin padded over to Caleb, putting his front paws on the wizard’s leg and meowing at him. Caleb picked him up, holding him close to his chest as he watched Mollymauk sit at the far end of his own bed, putting as much distance between them as possible while still having somewhere to sit.

There was silence for a while, the only sound Caleb’s frantic breathing and Frumpkin’s loud purr. After a few minutes, and a few licks on the face from a fey cat, Caleb began to calm, still watching Molly warily. The bloodhunter hadn’t moved, demonstrating unfathomable patience as he let Caleb sit with his cat.

“Can we talk for a second?” Molly asked once Caleb’s breathing had gone back to a normal pace, Frumpkin’s lowered purr a secondary indication of the better mindset of the wizard. “And before you answer, you are allowed to say no, alright?”

“I…” Caleb started to speak, feeling as if his entire process of thought had just been thrown out of alignment with the universe. Why would he refuse Molly? His whole purpose was to… Why would Molly offer?

“Yes, ah, what… what would you like to know?”

Molly shook his head, shifting to sit cross legged and leaning his elbow on one leg, propping his chin on his palm. “Nu-uh. I said talk, not interrogate. Let’s clear that one right up.”

“Oh.” Caleb intoned, feeling stupid as he dropped his gaze. Apparently, there was a distinction between the two terms. He tensed nervously, Frumpkin’s claws nipping at his clothing as the cat kneading him gently as a result. “Ah, w-what would you like to, ah, talk about?”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. Beauregard, well, she’s being an idiot right now, but we’ve talked to her.” Molly began with a small smile. “We’re a bit chaotic as a group, and sometimes we’re all a bunch of assholes, but honestly we’re not all that bad.”

There wasn’t a question in there, or anything Caleb knew how to respond to. What did Mollymauk want from him; denial of the insult, reassurance he did not think they were? And they had ‘talked’ to Beauregard? Was that the same talk as Mollymauk meant this to be, or had some sort of discipline been given to the monk?

He dropped his gaze, looking down at Frumpkin as his buried his fingers in the cat’s fur and took his best guess at the correct response.

“I- I did not mean t-to imply-“

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Molly interrupted the apology, trying to keep his tone gently though Caleb twitched in an almost flinch anyway. Fuck, this wasn’t going how he’d hoped _at all_.

“S-sorry.” Caleb apologized again, not looking up at the Tiefling.

Molly frowned, trying again. “You’re allowed to have your own opinion, do your own thing. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Mollymauk.” Caleb agreed.

Molly’s frowned deepened, though he tried to hide the expression in case Caleb decided to look at him. It wasn’t hard to tell Caleb didn’t really get it, was just trying to say what he though Molly wanted. Yeah, this was definitely part of a bigger issue, but Molly had no idea how to address it. Or what exactly was the source.

“Okay, okay, it’s fine. We’ll work on that, just… Whatever it is you think you should or shouldn’t do, we aren’t holding you to those standards, or any really. We’re not going to hurt you for not doing something.” Molly tried to explain, hoped that it made sense or that Caleb would eventually realize that on his own. “We’ll give you some space, if you need it, okay?”

Caleb nodded mutely and Molly had honestly no idea how to take that agreement. He didn’t want to press too hard right now, didn’t want this to even resemble Caleb’s initial expectation of being… _questioned_.

It was at this awkward moment that Caleb’s stomach made an awful noise, bringing the full plate of food from the previous evening to Molly’s attention. He shook his head, politely ignoring the furious blush on the mages face as he stood up. “I’ll bet there’s some fresh food downstairs. You can join us, if you want.”

Caleb nodded and stood, snapping his fingers as he did so. Molly watched with some interest as Frumpkin vanished. Interesting trick. He didn’t question it, Caleb looked nervous enough already.  
Another wave of the hand (okay it was more of a subtle bare movement of the wrist) and the majority of the filth on Caleb vanished, though his clothing was looking a bit worn and there were definitely gashes in the fabric no mending spell would fix. Molly made a mental note to take him shopping before they left for Zadash.

He could almost feel Caleb’s eyes on him as they left the room, the mage following along behind him in silence. It was a little awkward, once again basically leading the wizard around, but he couldn’t think of a non-awkward way to bring it up.

Descending the stairs, Molly caught sight of Jester first, Beauregard sitting beside her. Their table had some food and drink, though neither of them seemed particularly interested in either. Molly headed over, scanning the room for the rest of the party.

“Where’s everyone else at?” Molly asked the two of them, glancing around at the fairly empty dining room around them.

“Fjord said he needed to go take care of something, Caduceus said he needed to go make sure Fjord was okay, and Nott’s off visiting Yezza and Luke.” Jester explained, not looking up from where she was drawing in her journal.

“Yash’s still sleeping.” Beau added nonchalantly, giving Molly a narrowed eyed glare that dared him to comment.

He just grinned, mimicking locking his lips and flicking his fingers as if to throw away the key. He’d mock her later when Caleb either wasn’t around looking terrified or when the wizard wasn’t so petrified of angering the monk. Jester wiggled her shoulders, making an ‘oooooh’ teasing noise, but still remained focused on her artwork.

Molly waved Caleb invitingly towards a seat, sitting down as well. It was awkwardly silent for a while, Jester paying no attention to them and Beau purposefully looking away with a guilty expression, though she did slide the plate of food subtly toward Caleb.

Caleb appeared not to notice; too busy trying to memorize each grain of the table, glancing worriedly at Molly every so often.

“So, Caleb’s got a cat.” Molly announced without preamble, a little guilty as Caleb seemed to shrink down in his seat. He could tell the wizard was just going to be worrying about it the entire time and probably until the _end_ of time if he didn’t go ahead and bring it up. The looks the mage had been giving him were heartbreaking…

“What?” “Really?!” Beau’s confusion and Jester’s excitement were so perfect Molly laughed. The cleric had finally found something more interesting than her drawing now, as she looked up at Caleb and Molly with sparkling eyes.

“Where is it?” Beau questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.

Caleb hesitated but eventually clicked his fingers, Frumpkin appearing atop the table. If he hadn’t been watching, Molly might have missed the subtle flinch from the mage as Jester squealed with excitement, reaching out for the Fey cat. Beauregard apparently saw it as well, because she quickly elbowed the blue Tiefling, causing her to pull back.

Jester threw an annoyed look at Beau, then followed her gaze to Caleb who was staring tensely down at the table. “Caleb, can I pet him?” She asked after a short pause, trying to be patient and not too eager.

“Ah.. yes, of course.” Caleb agreed quickly, jerking his head in what might have been a nod.

Frumpkin padded across the table over to Jester, sitting with his tail curled around him, watching. Caleb twitched slightly as Jester reached out to pet the cat, still not looking up at anyone.

“Aw, Caleb. He’s so cute!” Jester said lightly, tone growing more animated as she looked from the wizard to the cat. “What’s his name?”

Caleb finally lifted his gaze up toward Jester, breathing shakily before answering. “Ah, h-his name is Frumpkin.”

“Since when have you had a cat?” Beau asked in confusion, watching Jester and Frumpkin with a puzzled expression.

“Ah, since, ah… since always.”

And Caleb was looking down again, Molly noted with a frown. And that had definitely been fear coloring his answer. Damn it, he really hadn’t done a good job reassuring him. Or maybe it was just because it had been Beau asking. He leaned toward Caleb to speak to him quietly. “No one’s going to hurt your cat.”

Beau let out a little grunt of “huh”, watching as Frumpkin simply sat letting Jester stroke his fur gently.

“Oh, Caleb, he’s so cute!” Jester repeated the praise, scrooching Frumpkin under the chin.

“Feisty little thing, he even scratched me.” Molly teased as he leaned back in his seat, trying to lighten the tension in the wizard. The little humor he’d managed vanished as Caleb drew a sharp breath, gaze snapping to him with wide, terrified eyes. In an instant, the mage clicked his fingers and Frumpkin vanished from under Jester’s hands, the cleric letting out a sad cry.

“Mollymauk, I- I am.. I am v-very sorry.” Caleb stammered out.

“Hey, it’s fine, he was looking out for you, I get it.” Molly said with a slight shake of his head, smiling even through the worry at the wizard’s reaction.

“I’m sure it was Molly’s fault.” Jester said, tone sounding a little sulky. “He’s a very nice cat, can you bring him back?”

Caleb’s gaze shifted between them all, the mage going so still it seemed as though he wasn’t even breathing. Slowly, he shook his head in denial of the request.

That was progress, at least, Molly tried to tell himself. Caleb not blindly following every suggestion they put forth. Except Caleb looked like he fully expected all sorts of hell to be dropped on top of him for daring to do so, and that was just completely fucked up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” He tried to reassure the mage.

“Oh, yeah yeah.” Jester chimed in, a guilty expression on her face. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Caleb.” Molly added, when the tension didn’t ease from the mage at all.

Caleb looked down again as he spoke, posture still stiff and tense as he, surprisingly appeared to disagree with that sentiment. “I, ah… should not have, ah, summoned him. Without permission.”

Well, that was wrong on so many levels, Molly thought with a grimace. It was, however, a nice segue into the bigger issue. “Is that one of those rules Eodwulf mentioned?”

Caleb nodded slowly, still not looking at them. “Ah.. Master Ikithon did not, ah, approve.”

That made a certain amount of sense, Molly guessed. He could just imagine the old stuffy mage’s fury if Frumpkin would have scratched _him_. It did leave a sour note with Molly, hearing Caleb refer to Trent as ‘Master’. It wasn’t first time Caleb had done so, but with this context it was disturbing.

“You mean Trent would hurt poor Frumpkin if you didn’t follow the rules?” Jester asked, tone colored with distraught when Caleb replied to Molly’s question.

“Ah, sometimes…depending.” Caleb answered, extremely uncomfortable where this discussion was leading. Apparently, that was not the immediate consequence from the Nine, though he feared finding out what _was_.

“And the other times?” Beau asked warily, leaning an elbow on the table as she studied Caleb.

“The discipline would fall upon, ah, myself.”

“He would hurt _you_?!” Jester asked shrilly.

“Failure is not tolerated.” Caleb stated easily, as if were the most accepted concept on earth.

“Jeez, and you- “ Beau groaned, not able to even process this right now. “We all fuck up all the damn time, we don’t fucking beat each other up over it. Not _physically_ at least…”

“I’ve already explained your idiocy, Beau.” Molly spoke up, kindly saving Beauregard’s floundering attempt at explaining her contradictive actions. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the direction the conversation had turned either, though more because Caleb’s answers made him believe the mage was treating it more like an interrogation than anything else.

“I know you don’t trust Beau, I mean come on, who can blame you..” Jester huffed, sticking her tongue out at Beau when the monk gave her a frustrated (and somewhat guilty) look. “But none of the rest of us are like that, you don’t have to be scared, we’re really nice, we won’t hit you.”

Caleb’s gaze drifted warily over to Molly, Jester and Beau following to look at the purple Tiefling. Molly returned their looks, confused and speechless for a long silent moment.

“What? I’ve neve-“ Molly started to protest, but stopped, eyes narrowing briefly then widening in realization. “Oh.. Aw, for fu-“ Molly groaned, expression twisting in a mix of frustration and guilt as he buried his face in his hands.

Molly had never wanted to hug someone so much in his entire life, but he couldn’t bring himself to move any closer to the mage. Not when Caleb thought casually slapping someone for breaking some unknown rule was completely acceptable. And _expected_. Fuck, he’d just been trying to _help_. Gods, he was going to be sick.

“Oh.” Beau realized it a moment later, brow furrowing as she also picked up the implications.

“Jester, is this your new friend you told me about?”

The question interrupted their discussion, the four of them looking over to see the Ruby of the Sea. Each but Caleb had met her; the familiar visage of her ruby red skin and dark red hair, graceful and alluring smile a welcome disruption to the tense conversation.


	27. Chapter 27

Caleb stood as Marion Lavorre approached, giving a formal bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you, madame Lavorre. I am Caleb Widogast.”

Marion’s eyes drifted over the table, taking in Beau’s uncomfortable expression, Molly with his face in his hands, Jester’s false cheer, the strained unease in the newest human. She smiled as her gaze turned back to Caleb, inclining her head. “The pleasure is mine, mister Widogast. Jester had told me last night that the group had acquired a new companion.”

Relieved that he seemed to have gotten one thing right, he’d been guessing based on both Caduceus and Mollymauk’s preference for introductions, Caleb dipped his head in another half bow. He waited until Marion had taken a seat beside Jester before reclaiming his own. He had been lapsing, letting his weakness become too apparent. Master Ikithon would have never let such failure pass.

He worried about the look Beauregard and Mollymauk were sharing, but he kept his expression politely neutral, knowing better than to embarrass any of them in front of someone as important as the Ruby of the Sea. This was his first time meeting her, but he had, of course, heard of her. He would do better, would not be _weak_.

The Ruby was also Jester’s mother, and he did not need to damn himself any further by giving her cause to dislike him.

Molly stood up after a moment, giving Marion a short apologetic smile. “Sorry, but I just- Beau, mind if I have a word with you?” He asked, turning his attention to the monk and jerking his thumb toward the door, indication where he wanted to go.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Beau replied, also standing up. “Later Jess, Jes’ mom.”

Marion’s gaze followed them out, concern in her eyes as she looked at Jester after they had left. Her tone was slightly apologetic as she spoke. “I am sorry my little Sapphire, I did not mean to interrupt your conversation.”

“Oh, no no, momma, it’s okay.” Jester said, patting Marion’s arm as she shuffled her chair a little closer. “Caleb was just telling us some stuff about before he joined us, and it maybe might of made them a little sad you know.”

“I do apologize, Miss Lavorre.” Caleb said, faint blush rising as he looked down at the table.

“There is no need to apologize, Caleb.” Marion said gently, turning her gaze towards him. She put her arm comfortingly around Jester, the cleric leaning into her for reassurance.

“If… Jester, if it helps I can...” Caleb began, hesitant but less afraid now that Mollymauk and Beauregard had left. He lifted his hand, clicking his fingers and Frumpkin reappeared atop the table.

“Oh!” Marion gasped in surprise, Jester perking up beside her. “That is impressive, Caleb!”

Caleb flushed at the praise, unused to any being directed his way nor did he think he deserved it.

“Oh, Caleb, you didn’t have to.” Jester said, sounding sad but her expression was shifting toward the more usual child like joy.

“I… I know.” Caleb said slowly.

Marion smiled, reaching across the table to place her hand a foot or so away from his. “Thank you, Caleb.”

Caleb looked at her in surprise, shoulders slowly relaxing as she sat back and watched Jester play with Frumpkin with a gentle expression. He could see why she was so popular. There was a gentle openness about her; he doubted he could make a bad impression on her if he tried. In fact… he believed he might have succeeded in making a good impression.

If she approved of him, perhaps that meant Jester approved of him as well. If Mollymauk’s words earlier were anything to go by, the bloodhunter himself wished to keep Caleb around. As to the others… Caleb was not sure.

Fjord was every bit the mystery he had always been. Nott as well.

Caleb vaguely remembered Caduceus speaking up for him when Beau had been so angry with him in Yussa’s tower, so perhaps he had some approval from him. Yasha had done much the same.

Half. Half the group wanted to keep him.

If Mollymauk was to be believed, none of them wished to cause him harm. Which begged the question of how they would administer punishment or discipline. It was a question he did not prefer to consider, especially as three of them now knew Frumpkin existed.

Caleb half listened as Jester and Marion spoke with each other, smiling and speaking when either asked him a question, nodding in appropriate response if Jester glanced his way. It was a familiar task, the rules well known and easy to follow.

Marion appeared enthralled by the stories Jester told, liberal with praise for her daughter. When a server came with fresh fruit for the Ruby, she insisted the other two take a share. Frumpkin was at ease, laying beside Jester’s arm that rested on the table, tail flicking lazily. Caleb was able to relax himself, stomach untwisting enough to eat to offered food.

Caleb had no idea what else to do with himself other than remaining here. As Jester had said before, most of the others were busy. Caleb he had little desire to search out Beauregard or Mollymauk and he knew better than to be so disrespectful as to leave to sit idle is the room they had been given.

In any case, Marion’s company was… soothing, even through the worry of disappointing Jester and the stress of having Frumpkin on this plane of existence without direct approval. Here he had been brought, and here he would remain.

~~

Molly stalked outside of the Chateau, glaring up angrily at the clear blue sky.

“It’s not any use beating yourself up about it, you couldn’t have known.” Beau said, completely unhelpfully in Molly’s opinion.

Mollymauk snarled a curse at her in Infernal, the monk frowning in annoyance and wincing as a lick of flames crawled up her torso. She didn’t bat an eye as she brushed it away, barely feeling the singe. “C’mon Molly, aren’t you always telling me to calm down?”

“Yes, but for all your fuck ups, you haven’t actually done real damage.” He snapped, leaning on the wooden railing of the Chateau’s porch and glaring out at the busy streets.

“Neither have you. It’s not that bad.” Beau tried to reason. “At least he doesn’t seem like he’s terrified of every breath you make.”

“No, he just expects me to discipline him every time he breaks some ‘rule’ or… or… fucking, steps out of line or some shit.” Molly growled, in no mood to be reasonable.

“It’s messed up. I mean, didn’t he said he was taken to the Academy when he was just a little kid.” Beau crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the railing as she looked toward the Chatuea.

“Since he was six. I remember.” Molly grumbled, eyes narrowing.

Beau let out a long sigh, one finger tapping on her arm. “One thing I don’t get. He acts just like all the other Assembly mages. No, no, hear me out..” Beau huffed, frowning as Molly turned a glare at her. “Most of them really are cold and distant. Hell, you saw Trent when he visited. And you can’t tell me you didn’t think Caleb wasn't the exact same that entire trip to Gandre. And all that polite formality back there just now?”

Molly narrowed his eyes in annoyance but looked away back toward the streets. He had gotten the cold vibe from Caleb at the beginning, yes. And he _had_ noticed the very sudden switch in Caleb’s demeanor when an outside party showed up in the form of one Marion Lavorre. “I assume you have a point in there somewhere?”

“Yeah, I just wonder… how many other of those stuck up little mages are following the same set of fucked up rules.” Beau told him. “And, well… I know I was kinda pinning the blame on Caleb, but what _if_ the Assembly really is trying to take over the Empire? They’d have a nice powerful, perfectly obedient army.”

“Guess that’s one more reason to go to Zadash. Aren’t you Colbalt Soul people supposed to make sure they don’t do exactly that?”

“Historically, yes. The Cobalt Soul has kept the Cerberus Assembly in check, and depending who you ask, they do the same to Cobalt Soul.” Beau grumbled. “As an Expositor the job is to dig out corruption, that’s what Dairon taught me. And if you ask me, that’s the main reason the Cobalt Soul and the Assembly have never gotten along in the first place.”

They stood quietly for a while, Molly cooling off and Beau providing silent company. It helped, a little. He wasn’t quite as pissed off with the monk anymore, now that she was seeing sense. And the additional background information was something to consider.

“Hey, give me some money.” Molly demanded abruptly as he straightened, turning to look at Beau with his arms crossed.

“What? No! … Why?”

“Because Caleb needs a new wardrobe, and you’re paying.” Molly told her, holding out his hand expectantly.

“And why am I the one footing the bill…” Beau complained, though she was already pulling out her coin pouch and dumping the contents into Molly’s waiting hands. She knew the mage hadn’t brought any other clothing with him and, unlike the rest of them, didn’t have a stash here from frequent visits in the past.

Molly grinned cheekily. Guilt was such an effective motivator sometimes. She had dumped about three platinum worth of gold and copper in his hands, this was going to be a _fun_ shopping trip. Now just to convince Caleb to come along…

“Thank you.” His tone full of false nobility, as he tucked the coins away with a flourish. “I’m sure between myself, Jester, and Cad we can manage to get him to have some fun.”

“Yeah, if you can find Caduceus. He wandered off with Fjord, remember?” Beau huffed.

“Please. All I have to do is mention shopping and Jester will message him in a heartbeat.” Molly snorted.

“Yeah yeah. Go, relax, buy stuff. Pick up some healing potions while you’re out.” Beau said, turning around to go back inside. “Me and Yash are going to the beach later.”

That might be fun, Molly considered, following Beauregard inside and splitting off to head back to where he’d left the other two. And maybe having Caleb interact with the group in something that wasn’t a life or death situation, no threats to defeat on the horizon, might help the mage get to know them better.

Enter back into the main foyer and heading to the table, Molly was very glad to see Caleb had relaxed enough to eat something. Jester was telling some story, Marion listening with rapt attention.

Caleb was the first to notice his return; Molly trying his hardest not to take it personally that the mage was so wary of him that he kept such careful track of his movements. Honestly, he probably did that with all of him considering his expectations, and Molly wouldn’t be surprised if he even knew where Nott was all the time…

No, what _really_ stung was the instant Caleb saw him, he clicked his fingers and Frumpkin vanished. Molly kinda liked the little sassy furball and it hurt that Caleb didn’t even trust him in the same room with him.

Jester looked down where Frumpkin had previously been laying against her elbow, gaze traveling to Caleb, then sweeping the room until she saw Molly.

Molly put on his most charming smile (one Yasha would scold him for because he hadn’t worn it since before joining the group), approaching the table and giving a flourishing bow to Marion. “My humblest apologies for leaving so suddenly, I found myself in need of some fresh air.”

Jester giggled, snorting at his over the top performance.

Marion gave him a gentle smile, not falling for the façade, and Caleb barely met his gaze before carefully _not_ looking him in the eye. At least Jester bought his ‘I’m perfectly fine don’t mind me’ routine.

Molly threw himself down in the seat Beau had previously been sitting in. Caleb was giving him a puzzled look, probably wondering why he was sitting so much further away than earlier. He’d said they would give him space if he needed, and since Caleb was apparently so worried about him, Molly would give him as much space as he could.

“Hey Jester, mind doing me a favor?” Molly asked, pulling himself from a rather depressing and aggravating train of thought.

“Hm? Sure, Molly, what is it?” Jester agreed, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Message Cad for me, see if he’s up for a little shopping?” He asked, lips twitching into a smile as excitement spread across Jester’s face.

“Of course, of course! What are we shopping for?” Jester cheered, pausing for a moment to ask her question.

“Well…” Molly began, “Most of us have quite a few belongings stashed here, thank you for your generosity in that regard by the way, miss Lavorre.”

Marion smiled and inclined her head, playing along.

“But Caleb here hasn’t had that privilege as of yet. And well…” Molly gave Caleb an apologetic smile, there was no polite way to phrase it. “No offense Caleb, but you didn’t exactly have an easy time in that last battle. Magic will only get you so far fixing that.”

“Of course, Mollymauk.” Caleb replied, looking more confused than offended.

“Does that mean you’re coming shopping with us?” Jester asked hopefully.

“If you wish.” Caleb nodded.

Jester let out a happy squeak of glee, flourishing her hands as she cast the message spell. “Caduceus! Me and Molly are taking Caleb shopping, do you want to come along? We’re going to get some clothes, maybe visit the bathhouse, and-” She stopped, wrinkling her nose and waiting.

Marion leaned forward slightly, laying one hand gently on the table to catch Caleb’s attention. When she spoke her tone was soft, expression warm. “She will not mind if you do not wish to accompany them. You are very welcome to stay and rest if you would prefer.”

Caleb glanced over to where Jester had apparently heard from Caduceus and was now animatedly speaking with Mollymauk, the purple Tiefling just nodding along with a smile. He was not opposed to accompanying them, and it was in his best interest to please them. This order (request?) was simple to follow. If they deemed it appropriate for him to have new clothing, he would be grateful. Maybe he could convince them the need for additional quality ink and paper for more spells?

He returned Marion’s smile awkwardly. “I appreciate the offer, ah, but I am, ah, happy to accompany Jester and Mollymauk.”

Jester turned toward the two of them, almost bouncing with excitement. “And Caduceus! He will meet us at the shops! Oh Caleb, this is going to be so fun, we can go relax and get some new clothes and things, and when we come back we can show momma what we got! Do you want me to bring anything back for you?” Jester asked, directing the last towards her mother.

“No, thank you Jester. You go and have fun with your friends, I will see you when you return. You are not leaving until tomorrow, correct?”

“Yes! We are leaving for Zadash in the morning!” Jester affirmed, moving to give Marion a hug when she opened her arms. She gave her a kiss on the cheek, then skipped toward the double doors leading outside. Jester turned to call back to the other two when she was halfway there, tone eager and excited. “Come on you two, let’s go!”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little squiggly in a few places.... but we got where I wanted to go in the end so.... Yeah.

Jester led the way outside, spinning around to face them in the bright sunlight of the late morning. “Okay! First stop, neewww clothes!! I can’t wait to try on some fancy dresses!”

“Jester, we’re buying clothing, not evening wear.” Molly reminded her with some amusement.

“I know, I know, but maybe want a new dress too, you know?” Jester explained, turning to Caleb a moment later. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to get anything fancy if you don’t want to, but you total can.”

“Oh, ah…” Caleb didn’t know what to say to that, not expecting to be given choices in what would be purchased.

“Beau asked me to pick up some more healing potions while we’re out. If we can find any.” Molly added.

“Okay, we should maybe stop by there first, we should see Caduceus on the way there.” Jester started walking down the stairs to the main road, Mollymauk beside her. Caleb trailed along behind them, though hurried to catch up beside the cleric when Jester waved him forward.

It was a little strange walking beside them, but Jester seemed pleased and Mollymauk was on the other side of her, so Caleb tried not to worry about it. It took them about thirty minutes to find a shop that sold healing potions, Molly heading up the transaction as he approached the owner and requested the items.

Jester wandered around looking at the other wares, ducking in and out between the various shelves, but Caleb joined Mollymauk when the Tiefling summoned him over with a wave. “We’ll all get together and divide up the potions later, but is there anything else you specifically need while we’re here? Wizard stuff or anything?”

“Oh, ah, do you- if it is alright- do you have any high quality paper or ink? For the purpose of transcribing?” Caleb asked the shop keeper, glance shifting briefly to Mollymauk. It was odd requesting the material, for all he’d known he would need to eventually. Master Ikithon would not have allowed such, but Master Ikithon would have known what Caleb needed and would have provided it or not, at his discretion.

Molly turned to look at the shopkeeper expectantly, the tanned human blinking at them with a bored expression. “We have a small vial of ink, for transcription, twenty-five gold.”

Well, that was nearly all the gold Beau had given him, but Molly slid it across the counter to the shop keeper anyway. There was still plenty left for clothing and more, and he wasn’t about to question Caleb’s request. Yeah, it had been broken up by basically asking permission, but he’d asked for something. So that was a win.

He slid the ink over to Caleb, the wizard thanking him politely and tucking it a pocket in his coat. The kid behind the counter was probably just a hired hand, definitely not the owner given his disinterest in trying to sell them literally anything else. Molly turned around, leaning against the counter as he called out to Jester. “Hey, Jester, you done? Buying anything?”

“Nope! I’m ready.” Jester said, expression far too pleased with herself.

He headed toward the door, Caleb a step behind him, stopping once they reached the street and turning to Jester. “Where to next, oh fearless leader?”

“There’s a shop right over there that has- OH! Hey, Caduceus!” Jester interrupted herself, waving her arms in a completely unneeded attempt to gain Caduceus’ attention. The tall Firbolg was already headed their direction, but waved at Jester in acknowledgement in any case.

Jester skipped over toward him, Caleb following Molly a step behind.

“Caduceus! You’re just in time! We got some potions already and are going to go try on some new clothes!” Jester cheered as she reached him, continuing toward the shop past him.

Caduceus smiled, turning and falling in step with the other two. “That’s nice.”

The shop Jester led them into had a variety of premade clothing, mostly simple in design. Jester paused inside, one hand beckoning Caleb forward. “Caleb, come on, come on.”

She started picking up some shirts and handing them to him, pointing Caduceus and Molly towards another section. “You guys go look over there, see if you can find anything really cool!”

“Try not to go too overboard, okay Jester?” Molly laughed, hooking an arm into Caduceus and heading in the appointed direction.

Jester snorted, giving Caleb a look. “I don’t go overboard, he doesn’t know _what_ he’s talking about.”

Caleb nodded, looking a little lost and confused, so Jester tried to be as cheerful as possible. One of the shop’s assistance came over eventually and Jester shooed Caleb over to get measurements taken in case anything needed adjusting. Molly and Caduceus returned with some interesting things at one point and soon enough they practically had a whole new wardrobe for the wizard.

Jester was feeling quite pleased with herself, yes, she was! Caleb didn’t look even a little bit nervous anymore, not even bored even thought they’d been in the shop for probably an hour now.

Jester gave a gasp as she spotted a beautiful pink gown, just calling her name. She’d helped Caleb pick out lots of things, and here was this dress, like a miracle from the Traveler! Molly was consulting Caduceus over some bright colored cloak, both having apparently moved on from shopping for Caleb to shopping for themselves (or more specifically Molly). Jester didn't feel the least bit guilty for doing the same.

“Caleb, Caleb!” Jester called, picking up the dress and hurrying over to show him. “What do you think?”

“Ah, it is, nice?”

“Okay, okay, you wait here, I’m going to see how it looks, okay?” Jester asked, shifting over behind the screen to change. “And you can let me know what you think, okay?”

It was quite for a moment, just the rustling of fabric behind the screen in the back corner of the store where the two of them stood.

“Caleb, can I ask you something?” Jester questioned in an unusually timid voice. The Tiefling poked her head around the screen briefly to look at Caleb. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…”

“O-of course, Jester.” Caleb agreed immediately, a small curl of anxiety creeping up at the sudden change in Jester’s mood. “What would you like to know?”

“Well…” Jester ducked back behind the screen, the rustling of fabric soon being heard again and her voice sometimes muffled as she spoke. “You had said that the Academy provided all your things, right? Back at home you said that. And I was just wondering if, like, they paid you for jobs you did, or if you just, I don’t know, worked for free or something.”

“The Assembly spent years training my abilities, bearing the cost of such. They provided food, shelter, materials. My skills are theirs to use as they see fit.” Caleb answered. This one he knew, this one was easy and learned before Master Ikithon’s guidance.

There was a quiet little “oh” from behind the screen. Anxiety built in Caleb’s stomach, worry that somehow that answer, though correct and true for his entire life, had somehow been the wrong one. There was silence, long enough that Jester had to have finished changing; long enough for Caleb’s heart to race as he began trying to think of what apology he should offer for having offended the cleric.

Before the anxiety could become a complete panic, Jester emerged wearing the silky pink dress she had selected. She gave a spin, letting the hem flare out a bit and swirl around her. “How does it look?”

“It is very nice.” Caleb extended the compliment as he, presumably, was expected to do.

“I don’t know… Do you think Fjord will like it?” Jester inquired.

“It, ah, it is very beautiful, Jester. I am sure anyone would, ah, would notice you.” Caleb supplied, hoping the answer would suffice. He had no accurate measure of what Fjord did or did not notice, though he did not believe that was what Jester was asking for in any case.

“It’s a very fancy dress, very impressive. Most people would notice.” Jester let out a long sigh, looking down at the ornate gown she wore. “But I don’t think he ever _really_ notices me.”

Caleb smiled slightly, the expression nervous and sympathetic. “I, ah, understand that feeling, Jester.”

“Oh? Do you have a special someone you like?” Jester grinned, disappearing behind the curtain to change once more.

“Ah, no, not…” Caleb hedged, glancing toward where Molly and Caduceus were looking at other items.

“It… it has been some time, ah, since… since then.”

“Ooooh, what was her name?” Jester teased, sidling up beside him now wearing her own clothing.

“Ah…” Caleb forced himself not to lean away from the cleric, though unable to keep himself from casting another worried glance at the other two. They would certainly not approve… He stumbled over his words as he answered obediently, voice going a little quieter. “H-he was, ah, that is. .. E-Eodwulf…”

“Oh my gosh!” Jester gasped in a whisper, eyes wide with shock.

She wasn’t angry, wasn’t shouting for the others or calling him a traitor; it was more than he’d expected, admitting such past interest after what had transpired only yesterday.

“Is that why you were so upset hearing about him?” Jester questioned.

Caleb did flinch at that question, the reminder of that outburst enough to send a thrum of fear through him. “I- I had thought him dead, I d-did not mean to question Yasha.”

“Oh no, oh no, Caleb, I’m so sorry!” Jester apologized, voice high pitched and destressed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You didn’t- you don’t have to-“

Jester’s words appeared to fail her, the blue Tiefling wringing her hands and shifting her weight from foot to foot, unsure what to do. Caleb had upset her, the easiest to please of the Nine and he had failed even that simple task.

“I-it… it was a very long time ago. A childhood crush.” He hurried to try and explain, unsure if to save himself or to relieve the sorrow on Jester’s expression. Nor was he sure if those two were mutually exclusive. His gaze flickered over to Mollymauk before refocusing on Jester. “I cared for him, once, but, ah, he did not feel… such. It was long ago, Jester, a very long time ago.”

“O-kay.” Jester said, tone high pitched and uncomfortable. “Well… um. Why don’t we… go wait for them to finish buying that stuff and then maybe we can go have a snack? There was this cart with some cinnamon pastries on the street, they smelled so good!”

Caleb nodded agreeably, relieved at both the change of subject and the returning happiness to Jester’s voice. There was a note of sadness behind the tone, telling him he had not completely succeeding in repairing whatever damage he had done, but it wasn’t the abject failure of disappointing her in the first place.

He followed a step behind Jester as she began making her way to the entrance of the store, though the cleric stopped and took a few steps back to look at a wiggly scratch on one of the shelves. She glanced around with a too innocent expression, then pulled out her paints.

“Keep watch, okay?” she whispered to Caleb, before setting to work.

So, Jester’s painting of Beauregard’s wall was not a one-time occurrence. He hoped she would not attempt such a large intricate design here, but he obediently shifted his gaze to keep watch around the store.

Molly and Caduceus had finished looking at whatever had caught their interest and were providing unwitting distraction to the shop owner as they paid for the clothing chosen for Caleb. The distant conversation and the almost inaudible hums from Jester were almost peaceful, in their own way.

The soundless intrusion on that peace was made all the more jarring as a result.

**_”Convince the Mighty Nine to travel to Rexxentrum. You have three weeks. Do not disappoint me, boy.”_ **


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .. I miss CR...

Caleb’s muscles tightened as the sudden intrusion of Master Ikithon’s voice in his mind, heart skipping and racing as a result. Whatever Ikithon’s plans, it required the Nine to be in Rexxentrum and Caleb did not imagine his master’s plans would end well for them. His gaze flickered over to Jester, the cleric cheerily finishing her painting on one of the display shelves, unaware of any change in his demeanor.

Mollymauk and Caduceus soon completed their transaction with the shopkeeper, rejoining Caleb and Jester a few moments later, each of them carrying a short stack of clothing. Without thought, Caleb followed the three out of the store, eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.

How was he to convince them to go to Rexxentrum? He could not simply ask. Even would that not earn him some kind of discipline, they would want to know why. Of course they would not approve of his obeying the orders of another, he had been given to them, his allegiance owed to the Nine now. In addition, none of them like Master Ikithon, many going so far as to actively dislike him. He’d had far too many close calls with the monk as it was…

At least they had decided to travel to Zadash, one step closer to Rexxentrum. With the three-week allotted time, maybe they would find some reason to travel to the capital, absolve Caleb from either having to attempt to direct their movements or disobey Master Ikithon.

“Everything all right, Caleb?” Caduceus asked, head tilting slightly as he smiled at the mage kindly.

“Of course.” Caleb replied, both to the message spell he had received and to Caduceus’ inquiry. His heart thudded in his chest, an irrational feeling of guilt moving through him. He was obeying his master, this was what he was meant to do. Master Ikithon had told him to wait; gain their trust and wait.

He had not completely succeeded in gaining their trust, but it appeared he now had a time limit attached to that directive. Or an overriding order of just getting them to Rexxentrum.

He felt conflicted, uneasy in a way that had nothing to do with Master Ikithon’s voice in his head. He had been taught obedience, always obedience, and Master Ikithon had given him an order. Yet…

“Come on, Caleb!” Jester cheered happily, shifting on her feet beside him as she gestured toward a vendor on the street, their cart smelling of cinnamon baked goods.

He did not understand their rules, their expectations. Molly had mentioned not holding him to his own standards, but he hadn’t said there _weren’t_ standards. There _were_ rules, there _were_ consequences. He had learned that within the first day with the Mighty Nine.

Both Mollymauk and Beauregard had made their preferences very clear. He could understand that.

What he did not understand was Mollymauk’s assurance they would not hurt him for not doing something.

It didn’t make sense. It was… terrifying, in its own way.

He couldn’t- he _didn’t_ **like** them. He didn’t like Molly’s careful patience, Caduceus’ concern, Jester’s playful kindness. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of it. He followed orders, did as he was told, and if they knew he’d… what he’d done…

_They are traitors. Deal with them._

_Smoke and ash, scre-_

“Caleb?”

Mollymauk. Caleb flinched, taking a half step back as he folded his arms behind him, waiting. He had not been paying attention _again_ , had ignored Jester’s orders. They couldn’t possibly let such blatant disobedience go unp-

“I’m really really sorry, Caleb, please don’t be scared.” Jester’s voice was sad, Caleb looked up to see tears in her eyes.

That was wrong. Caleb looked away, guilt joining the shame and fear. Why was she apologizing, why was she upset? He did not know what he had done wrong. He had not been paying attention, true, but he already knew the consequences of that and Mollymauk had done nothing. That could not be the reason for her distress.

He needed to do something, correct this failing.

Reflexively he clicked his fingers, summoning Frumpkin beside the blue Tiefling and silently directing the cat to her. He should not, he tempted punishment by doing so, but…

Jester looked down at Frumpkin as he put a paw on her leg, the cleric making an indecipherable noise as she knelt to carefully pick the cat up. Caleb cast a worried look toward Molly as Jester approached with Frumpkin, the bloodhunter standing beside him still and far to close.

Caleb rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, fighting the urge to send Frumpkin away. He still feared retribution for the scratches Frumpkin had left on the Tiefling, knew he was skirting the line of open rebellion with his actions. But Jester was sad, she should not be sad, especially not because of his mistake.

“Thank you, Caleb, that was really sweet.” Jester said, voice still a little thick with unshed tears. “I’d really like it you could hold him, that would make us both feel better, okay?”

“Ja, ah, y-yes. I can…” Caleb agreed, confused as Jester gently placed Frumpkin in his arms. Hesitantly, he lifted Frumpkin to let the cat lay as a warm, purring scarf around his neck, keeping a wary eye on the three.

Mollymauk’s expression was tense, though he smiled slightly and nodded once as Caleb looked his way, so the mage hoped that meant approval. Jester was nearly beaming, so she was pleased at least.

_”Hello there, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Caduceus.”_

Caleb turned to look at Caduceus in surprise, Frumpkin’s ears also perking up at the sound of the Sylvan language. _”He is Frumpkin.”_ Caleb replied in the same tongue, Frumpkin curling his whiskers at Caduceus as if he were the one speaking.

“Oh, wow that’s so cool, you guys have your own secret language?” Jester laughed, hands on her cheeks as her gaze moved between Caleb and Caduceus. Her cheer was a little forced, but she was trying.

“I… ah, it… it is Sylvan.” Caleb explained nervously.

“Not so secret Jester, just one that we don’t know.” Molly chuckled.

“It’s very pretty.” Jester told Molly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. Is that the language Frumpkin speaks?”

“Cats don’t normally talk.” Caduceus told Jester, tone gentle as if breaking potentially distressing news to her.

Slowly, the four of them began moving again, heading toward the vendor cart that Jester had indicated earlier.

“Frumpkin understands the languages I do.” Caleb explained, watching Molly hand some coins to the vendor. He could barely believe how easily they were allowing his mistakes to pass. “I speak Sylvan, Celestial, Zemnian, and Common. And so Frumpkin understands those as well.”

“Oh, wow, that’s so many languages!” Jester praised, accepting a cinnamon pastry from the vendor. She turned to pass one to a blushing Caleb, smiling at him. “I only know Common and Infernal. My tutors used to try and teach me more, but…”

“What’s wrong with just knowing Common and Infernal? They’re two perfectly good languages, thank you very much.” Molly interrupted, giving Jester a teasing grin.

Caleb watched their conversation, Molly and Jester snipping at each other, yet neither getting angry. Caduceus adding his own comments every so often and often managing to _just_ not insult either of them. Anxiety curled in his stomach, creeping up his chest as he trailed along silently as they all continued walking down the streets of Nicodranas.

He should not get used to this. This was… this was not for him; it could not be. His entire life, his whole existence, was obedience. Be useful, obey, accept the consequences of failure. There were few, so few, who fell outside of that strict reality.

Yussa. The elven mage having been friend, even with how infrequently Caleb was in his presence. He had visited the powerful mage only four times in the past six years, yet his acceptance had not wavered. He understood, they had an agreement between each other.

Eodwulf…

Caleb shook his head, reaching up to scratch Frumpkin’s head as the cat’s purr grew in volume enough that he feared the others would hear. “Was werden wir machen?” He whispered to his friend quietly, heart skipping lightly at the open rebellion.

“Should we go to the bathhouse next?” Jester asked once they had all eaten the bearclaws Mollymauk had purchased for them. She turned to walk backwards for a moment as she looked between the other three. “Caleb can get all clean and try some of his new clothes!”

“I’m game, how bout you Cad?” Molly agreed.

Caduceus nodded as well, turning to Caleb. “Is that alright with you, Caleb.”

The answer was simple in the face of the three’s obvious preference, Caleb did not even hesitate before nodding agreement. “Of course.”

~~

This was going rather well, disregarding one little moment of panic.

Molly wasn’t sure what exactly had set it off, but he was just glad that Jester had been able to help. Clever little thing, asking Caleb to hold Frumpkin. The mage looked adorable wearing the cat around his neck.

He did worry a little about how quickly Caleb was agreeing to everything, but Frumpkin wasn’t sounding like a thundering storm purring, so he hoped that meant Caleb wasn’t feeling too anxious.

Hopefully the bathhouse would be relaxing and stress free.

Molly handed over the last of the coin Beauregard had given them to the attendant at the bathhouse. The lady glanced over the mix of gold, silver, and copper, then smiled cheerfully at the group. “Please, follow me.”

She led them towards the back, directing Jester towards one bath dedicated for women, leading the others to another room. Towels and scented soap were provided, and the attendants left them alone. The tub in the room was more along the lines of a small pool, steam rising off the water invitingly.

Molly was unashamedly the first to enter the hot scented water, tossing his clothes over one of the tables provided for that, sighing contently. It had been way too long since they’d come here to just relax. He closed his eyes as he sunk into the water, tilting back until only his face was uncovered.

He looked over when the water swished, almost splashing over his face, watching as Caduceus waded over to a corner of the large tub. This left just Caleb, the mage taking a bit longer as he had, apparently, paused to straighten Molly’s clothing. Caduceus had folded his carefully before entering.

“What are all those?” Molly asked curiously, moving to lean against the edge of the communal tub as he watched Caleb meticulously remove and carefully place books on one of the provided tables. He had already removed Frumpkin from around his neck but had not made him vanish. Instead the cat sat with his tail curled around him, watching the proceedings.

“Ah, spell books.” Caleb replied after a beat of hesitation. “They, ah, allow me to caste spells as a… a ritual. It takes longer, but, ah, requires less, ah, arcane energy.”

He was shaking, an almost unnoticeable tremble in his shoulders. Molly might not have noticed if he weren’t paying so much attention. Oh, he probably should have considered… Caleb might not feel comfortable with what was, arguably, a very intimate setting. He wanted the wizard to relax, not get embarrassed.

“Do you want your own private room?” Molly asked in concern, frowning when the question made Caleb flinch. He had no idea how that could have been taken the wrong way…

“Ah, nie-, ah, no. I am- I will remain here.” Caleb said, voice tight as his hands still shook removing his shirt and folding it carefully before laying it atop his books.

Molly glanced over at Caduceus for some kind of insight and was confused by the sight he was met with. The Firbolg was paying no attention to the mage; instead his attention was focused on making… tea? How the fuck did he always have tea? Molly waded over, completely baffled. “Cad, I’d accuse you of witchcraft if I didn’t think the Wildmother would strike me down, how do you do that?”

“It’s really quite simple. You only need to heat the water, add the herbs and let them steep for a-“

“Thanks, Cad, good one.” Molly snorted, lip curling in a half grin. He’d walked right into that one.

Molly’s attention was grabbed by the ripple of water, glancing over to see Caleb had joined them. He wore a very anxious expression, carefully avoiding looking at either of the others. The human was thin, ribs far too visible and covered in a network of scars that ran up his chest over his shoulders and down his arms. It was eerie how perfectly placed they were, so that none of them would show past the neck of his shirt. The only ones that might have been visible were those nearer his wrists, but he supposed that explained the bandages Caleb always wore.

He looked uneasy, bordering on worried, carefully avoiding looking at either of them.

“I’m still the champion.” Molly broke the awkward silence, half floating back and folding his arms behind his head.

Caleb glanced up warily, expression somewhat puzzled. Mollymauk stood up straight when he noticed him looking, gesturing with one hand down his own front. It wasn’t exactly something he hid, but apparently Caleb hadn’t previously noticed the litany of scars across the Tiefling’s torso, the thin lines running all the way up his neck.

Caduceus frowned but didn’t say anything when Molly shot him a look.

Having the most scars (though it could be argued Caleb actually had more) wasn’t something to be particularly proud of, and Molly didn’t really like pointing them out (mostly because he didn’t remember how he even _got_ many of them). Still, he much preferred himself being uncomfortable than watching Caleb try and disappear into thin air. _He_ knew Cad and the others wouldn’t judge him for it. Gods only knew what Caleb’s scars were from, and what he would be imagining their reactions or judgements for them would be.

“Hey, you guys!” Jester’s whisper caught them off guard, even Caduceus looking startled.

Molly narrowed his eyes at the snickering cleric, catching a flicker of see-through green curling past her form. “Aren’t you supposed to be over there, with the other ladies.”

“I was, but I didn’t want to stay there by myself.” Jester complained, unabashedly jumping into the large pool with them all. She shook her head as she came up from the water, sending water splashing. “There was this really old lady and she kept giving me these snooty looks when she came in, and I was just minding my own business, having a conversation with the Traveler, and she was being really rude, and he might have helped me play a trick on her. And I didn’t want to be kicked out, so I decided to join all of you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A translation, as mentioned to have in a post once upon a time ago.
> 
> _was werden wir machen?_ = What are we going to do?
> 
> Sidenote: I have no idea how bathhouses really work. So I'm making stuff up here.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got out of control...  
> All sorts of out of control.

Caleb was quiet for the entirety of their visit to the bathhouse.

He reacted when they spoke to him, would smile awkwardly when Jester attempted to joke with him, but it was obvious to Caduceus that he wasn’t really present with them. He even very politely declined Caduceus’ offer of tea, his expression completely neutral the entire time.

Caduceus couldn’t quite figure out what had happened.

He’d seemed a little uncomfortable at first, but had slowly eased into this cold outward demeanor, very reminiscent of that first evening at the keep.

As Jester had previously suggested in passing, Caleb dressed himself in his new clothing when they were ready to leave. He methodically replaced his spellbooks back within his coat and was ready to leave well before the rest of them.

Jester kept up the majority of the conversation on the way back, Molly helping here and there. Caleb just walked quietly, his cat laying around his neck. He _looked_ fine, but Caduceus knew there was something not right. He read more like a blank slate, closed off and unwelcoming.

Every so often, Caleb would tug at his sleeves a little, so maybe he was self-conscious over the scars on his arms? Caduceus made a note to ask Nott to let him have some of her linen bandages she kept for herself. It would probably only make Caleb more self-conscious if he brought it up and offered to go get some for him.

Caleb wasn’t the only one Caduceus worried about; Molly’s expression held a note of unhappiness, Jester’s as well. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with them either, but he knew it had something to do with Caleb.

He would guess Molly’s talk with Caleb this morning hadn’t convinced the human to trust them, and was probably the source of Mollymauk’s unease. Jester’s tendency towards excitement and casual demands for attention had appeared to pose a problem for Caleb. Jester was doing her best, but he could see the blue Tiefling was upset at having scared Caleb when leaving the clothing shop.

They really were a mess, but they were trying very hard.

Jester dashed off the instant they reached the Lavish Chateau, leaving Molly and Caduceus to share a confused look. Caleb didn’t react at all, simply stood with arms slightly crossed and hands tucked into his sleeves.

Molly headed inside, mentioning ordering some food and drinks. Caduceus followed him, Caleb tailing along behind.

Caleb gently took Frumpkin from his neck and let the cat down onto the table, silently sitting down himself after. The fey cat wandered around the table, sniffing first at Caduceus, then moving to sit in front of Mollymauk.

“Hey there.” Molly smiled a little sadly, propping his chin on his hand as he looked at Frumpkin. He could see Caleb watching with a blank, cold expression, but the mage didn’t vanish the cat this time.

Slowly over the next hour, Caleb began to unwind, eyes growing less distant. He tracked the movement of others in the dining area, eyebrows drawing into a brief puzzled expression as he really noticed Frumpkin’s position near Mollymauk.

Molly reached to nudge the plate of food the server had brought for Caleb closer to the mage, drawing his attention to it.

Caleb had barely begun eating when Molly caught sight of Fjord wandering into the dining area. Molly leaned back, waving a hand at the warlock to draw his attention. He didn’t see the others behind

Fjord as he headed their way, so he guessed they were still at the beach.

Fjord frowned as he saw the cat on the table, step hesitating slightly as he regarded Frumpkin. Of course, Caleb immediately noticed and clicked his fingers for Frumpkin to vanish. Molly wanted to groan, to bury his face in his hands once again. There went that progress.

“I wasn’t seeing things, there was definitely a cat on the table, right?” Fjord asked, pausing with one hand on a chair.

“Yes, there was. His name is Frumpkin.” Molly answered for Caleb, tone a little clipped with annoyance.

“He is a fey cat. Frumpkin belongs to Caleb.” Caduceus supplied helpfully.

“Right…” Fjord said slowly, sitting down and eyeing the three of them warily. “Is that like… a real cat?”

“As real as any of us.” Caduceus replied, the table falling into an almost tired silence.

Jester rejoined them some time later, looking proud but nervous, carrying a simple leather pouch in her hands. She paused as she looked around the table, face falling slightly. “Oh, where did Frumpkin go?”

“Fjord scared him away.” Molly retorted dryly.

“I did not!” Fjord snapped defensively.

“Fjooooooord!” Jester complained.

Caduceus chuckled, shaking his head. It was kind of sweet how the two Tiefling had taken to Caleb and had basically adopted the mage. When Caleb eventually became more comfortable, they were going to be a trio of trouble. And poor Fjord had walked right into it without even realizing this time.

“Here Caleb, this is for you.” Jester said gently, offering him the leather pouch. “It doesn’t have much in it, but it’s just a little bit to get you started cuz you don’t have any I guess, and I just wanted you to have some money, you know, for your own things and stuff…”

“Wait, what-” Fjord interrupted, confused.

“Shut up, Fjord, I’m being nice!” Jester huffed, turning back to look at Caleb sweetly.

Fjord held his hands up in surrender, leaning back in his chair. He had no idea how he’d ended up on everyone’s shit list from just walking in and sitting down. He had no idea what was going on right now.

Caleb accepted the pouch from her carefully, holding it and watching her with no small amount of confusion. “I do not understand.”

“Well, now when we do a job and split up the gold, you can put your share here.” Jester chirped out cheerfully, smiling even though there was sadness in her eyes.

“Ah, I… ah, thank you, Jester.” Caleb said, not completely understanding, but not wanting to risk upsetting her.

“So, I guess Yasha and Beau aren’t back?” Molly asked as Jester sat down between Caduceus and Caleb. He tore his eyes away from the confused wizard to look at Fjord.

The warlock shook his head. “No. And Luke talked Nott into taking him with them beach, so that’s where they are right now too.”

“I got us a couple minor healing potions for the trip.” Molly told Fjord. “They didn’t have many, so if you want more, we’ll have to pick them up in Zadash.”

Fjord nodded, running a hand down his face tiredly.

“Is everything alright, Fjord?” Jester asked, tone a little apologetic for snapping at him earlier.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Fjord grumbled, letting out a sigh. “Just this close to the ocean…”

“I don’t know about all of you, but I’ve had my fill of fun and excitement for the day. I’m going to go relax while I can. I’ll stash the rest of your new clothes for you Caleb.” Molly announced, standing up.

“Think I’ll retire as well.” Caduceus said, standing as well.

Jester waved a goodbye to them, Fjord giving a halfhearted wave as well, and Caleb just watching them in silence.

Molly matched Caduceus’ pace as they left, heading up the stairs to the second floor. “I’m fine, really.” He told the Firbolg, knowing the cleric had been watching him just wasn’t asking the obvious.

“When I talked to Caleb back home, he was nervous around me too.” Caduceus told Molly, blinking at him with a gentle smile. “But he seemed more comfortable when he wasn’t being watched. If you want to build some trust, maybe try that?”

“Seriously Cad, how do you do that?”

~~

Mollymauk was laying on his stomach on the bed, tail waving cheerfully in the air, when Caleb entered the shared room a few hours later. The Tiefling was shuffling his tarot cards, flipping them out one at a time, replacing them in the deck and repeating the process.

He glanced briefly at Caleb as the mage entered but went back to his cards.

Caleb moved to sit on his bed, watching what Molly was doing with silent curiosity as he settled at the far corner.

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to make it awkward.” Molly commented after the silence had stretched almost too far, eyes still focused on his cards. Caduceus had mentioned that had made Caleb more comfortable when they had talked back at the keep, so he’d give it a try.

“Before I joined up with these guys, I was with the circus. Me and Yasha both. Worked with what we had and communal bathing was what we had. And shy isn’t anywhere close to something that describes me.” Molly explained, shifting to sit cross-legged on the center of his bed, keeping his focus on his tarot cards.

“I did not mean any offense.” Caleb’s apology was barely a whisper, the mage dropping his gaze as he spoke.

“And you didn’t give any.” Molly assured him, leaning sideways and propping his chin on one palm as he used the other hand to flip cards over. He wasn’t so much interested in reading the cards, more using them as a calming focus. “Most of the rest of the group are about as comfortable with each other as it gets, so I wasn’t thinking how you might not be okay with the bathhouse.”

Molly was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room the quiet sound of cards flipping, then the shuffle as Molly stacked the deck again. “Mind if I ask, what’s wrong with wanting a private room at the bathhouse?”

“I, ah, I did not…” Caleb hesitated, looking carefully away and tugging at one of his sleeves. “…think that you- ah, w-was that not m-meant as a warning?”

It was difficult to keep his attention on the cards, to not look over at Caleb. But so far, Cad’s advice was working and Molly was going to follow it. He could hear the unease, the fear and confusion, in Caleb’s tone and was almost afraid to ask what he had supposedly warned the mage not to do.

“A warning for what? None of us would have minded if you’d wanted your own space.”

Caleb wasn’t sure how to answer that question. How to explain what was… not a rule so much as it was just an expected behavior. Master Ikithon did not tolerate weakness. Hesitation was a sign of weakness; he had hesitated at the bath house. Rebelliously delaying as long as possible having to showing the proof of his numerous past failures.

“A warning for my hesitation.” Caleb said slowly, pushing away the anxiety and fear, locking it away to answer the questions as he had been taught.

“O-kay.” Molly said warily, abandoning his tarot cards in favor of looking over at Caleb. Something about the way he answered bothered the Tiefling. “I still don’t get how offering you your own space is a warning.”

“There is a certain formality that must be maintained in public. A private room is used to correct a failure.”

Molly was worried about the disconnected tone, the blank expression and monotonous answers. Caleb was missing the normal pauses in his responses; the gentle cadence Molly had already learned was the human’s way of speaking.

And he definitely did not like that answer, and he suspected he would like the next one even less. He felt a little guilty asking, it felt like taking advantage, but…

“Is that how mages are taught at the Assembly?”

“I do not know.”

Molly tilted his head, confused at the answer. “How do you not know?”

“I was inducted into the Academy when I was six, from them I learned the basics of arcane magics. Master Ikithon of the Cerberus Assembly took me as his pupil five years later. I do not know the full extent of the training methods of other Assembly mages.”

Molly was getting a queasy feeling in his stomach, something telling him he should really stop now. Everything about Caleb’s demeanor was just _wrong_. In for a copper, in for a pound. Fuck it.

“What would Ikithon’s ‘corrections’ have been?”

“Whatever he deemed appropriate.”

“Give me an example.”

Caleb flinched at that; the barest hint of movement followed by a slight hitch of his breath. Molly was pretty sure he’d just tripped up over some imagined failure to answer the question properly the first time. Damn, he really should have stopped earlier.

“They… would have depended on the severity, but likely not much difference to the consequences for inattention here, physical discipline.” Caleb explained obediently, no longer staring at the mattress in front of him, but fixed on a point on the wall straight forward. “If the transgression required more serious correction, there are multiple arcane cantrips to choose from.”

"You know I don't have magic like that, right?" Molly asked, hoping to put Caleb's mind at ease, erase some of the man's fear. 

The tension didn't leave Caleb, nor the blank emptiness. Instead, the mage's jaw clenched briefly and when he spoke it sounded as if he were forcing the words. "W-which spell do you require?"

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation, Yasha’s soft voice calling quietly. “Caleb? Molly?”

“Yeah, Yash, come in.” Molly answered, tossing his cards back into his pack before turning to lay down on his back. He frowned up at the ceiling, hands behind his head with a sick feeling in his stomach. Caleb was still silent and distant, but attentive. Following some fucking ‘rule’ Molly had apparently accidentally created. He really, _really_ should have stopped…

Yasha paused after opening to door, glancing between them and reading the tension in the room. “Is this a bad time?”

“It’s fine, what’s up?” Molly waved a hand, trying to put as much nonchalance and ease into his tone.

“Beau told me Caleb had a cat, and I have never seen one before, so I was wondering…” She explained as she entered. Yasha looked over to Caleb, trailing off as he shifted further back into the corner, almost cringing away. She looked over at Molly for some direction as to what she’d said wrong, only to find him staring forcefully up at the ceiling. “Molly, what is wrong?”

“I can’t do anything fucking right apparently.” Molly huffed, rolling to turn his back on them. He waved one hand over his shoulder, curling up. “Go ahead and summon Frumpkin if you want, I won’t touch him, I’ll stay right here and won’t do anything.”

Yasha’s brow furrowed with worried confusion, the barbarian woman moving to sit cross legged on the floor between the two beds. She knew Molly did not particularly like to be loomed over, she was quite tall, and she figured Caleb was likely much the same. She did not want to scare him.

“Molly, are you okay?” Yasha asked gently, glancing over to see Caleb looking at Molly with confusion as well.

“I’m fine.” Molly replied shortly.

“You do not sound fine.” Yasha pressed, laying one arm along his bed as she scooted closer.

“And I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Molly huffed, knowing Yasha wouldn’t drop it and knowing equally as well he couldn’t talk about it without getting upset. Of course, if he did that Caleb would probably blame himself and it wasn’t _his_ fault.

“I am sorry, Mollymauk.” Caleb said quietly, curling in on himself.

“He is not angry.” Yasha explained calmly, seeing Molly tense at the apology. She leaned further towards the blood hunter so that her arm lay against his back. “He is sad. You are afraid of him, that makes him sad.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Yasha shook her head, denying the apology. Caleb had no reason to apologize. He did not choose to be afraid; it was not his fault.

She watched Caleb look over at Molly, the mage studying the Tiefling for a long moment. She hoped he understood. Yasha did not know what they had been talking about before she had interrupted, but she hoped Caleb would come to understand Molly and the rest of them meant no harm.

“Ah, you, ah, wished to see Frumpkin?” Caleb asked nervously, eventually turning his gaze back to Yasha.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no freaking clue how long it takes to travel in D&D or like… distance in general. So… yeah. Just go with it? Thanks!!

Mollymauk did not like him being afraid.

Caleb did not understand the concept. Fear ensured his obedience; it was why there were consequences for failure and rebellion. Caleb did not understand why the blood hunter did not want him to fear that any more than he understood Mollymauk’s declaration of his own failure.

Not that Caleb understood _what_ it was Mollymauk thought he was not doing correctly. Nor did he understand how the blame was on Mollymauk and not himself.

Yasha said it was not his fault, Mollymauk had given him permission to summon Frumpkin, and Caleb was more confused than ever.

Caleb slowly uncurled form the corner, sitting on the edge of his bed with a few feet still between himself and Yasha. He clicked his fingers, summoning (as requested) Frumpkin on the bed beside him.

“Oh, he is very small.” Yasha commented quietly. “Is it alright if I hold him?”

Caleb nodded distractedly, watching blankly as Frumpkin walked slowly toward Yasha.

He did not think he had ever made anyone sad before. Angered, disappointed, yes… but sad?

He was not sure if this was a rule he could successfully obey. Failure was not tolerated. Disobedience was not tolerated. Disappointing his master was equally intolerable as it generally involved one of those two.

“Do all mages have pets like this?” Yasha asked curiously, drawing the mage’s attention. Frumpkin sat upon her legs, looking with curled whiskers into Yasha’s eyes.

“Frumpkin is… ah…” Caleb hesitated, unsure if correcting Yasha’s terminology fell under the rule of not questioning her. Although, Beauregard was not here and Mollymauk dislike his fear, so perhaps it was alright this time?

“He is not, ah, not a pet exactly. And, no, not everyone has a familiar.”

“Oh.” Yasha tilted her head in confusion. “How is a familiar different than a pet?”

“Ah, it is, ah… A familiar is summoned by a spell.” Caleb explained, casting a quick glance at Mollymauk before scooting a little closer. “It is one of the more basic spells, but one they did not teach us until after our first two years.”

Caleb paused, glancing up at Yasha’s face briefly. She did not appear irate at the explanation, simply interested. Some of the tension in Caleb eased as the mage continued, putting aside his worry over new rules in favor of the discussion of magic.

“Only wizards summon a familiar and the, ah, the shape and… type vary from each individual. They, ah, they are different from pets because a wizard can communicate with them telepathically, ask them to go somewhere or do something, change their shape, and can see and hear things through their familiar when they focus. The familiar can be dismissed to a type of pocket dimension and re-summoned instantly, ah, like this.”

Caleb clicked his fingers, Frumpkin vanishing from Yasha’s arms. He clicked them again and Frumpkin reappeared beside him on the bed. He scratched Frumpkin behind the ears, a slight bitter smile on his face, remembering so long ago when he had learned that spell. “There are even some spells he can assist me with casting.”

“He sounds like a very smart cat.”

Caleb’s agreement died in his throat as Mollymauk rolled over to face them with a curious expression. “Has he ever been anything other than a cat?”

“A… a few times, yes.” Caleb replied nervously.

Frumpkin made slight mrring sound, butting his head against Caleb’s leg before jumping down from the bed and leaping up beside Mollymauk on the other.

Molly gave a half smile, glancing up to meet Caleb’s gaze. “Okay, I know I said I wouldn’t touch him, and I promise not to hurt him, but he’s really a great cat, so… can I?”

“Ah, of- of course, Mollymauk.” Caleb agreed, surprise coloring his tone.

Molly’s smile was a little sadder, but he scrooched Frumpkin gently on the head.

“What other animals has he been?” Yasha asked gently, distracting both of them.

“Oh, ah, mostly a bird.” Caleb answered, gaze drifting back to Yasha. He looked down, shoulders tensing slightly as he continued. “I, ah, I p-prefer him as he is now… i-if I may keep him…”

“Of course, Caleb.” Yasha assured him gently. “We would not make you change him, if you did not want to.”

Caleb relaxed again, especially when Molly nodded in agreement, the Tiefling’s tail flicking lazily in a way much like Frumpkin’s might in feline contentment. He was almost as easy to please as Jester it seemed, and apparently now reluctant to administer physical discipline. And he _liked_ Frumpkin. Perhaps, with Mollymauk, it would not be so hard following this new rule.

~~

Preparations for their departure in the morning were uneventful.

Fjord sighed over the purchase of one small cart and one horse, but they simply did not have the gold for more. It wasn’t much in the way of transportation, but it was enough to carry supplies.

Nott (in the form of Veth) gave her love and well wishes to Luke, admonishing him to listen to Yezza and be good with the promise of his own crossbow if he did. She also pulled Caleb aside, pushing a clean bundle of linen bandages in his hands with an excuse that she had noticed his old ones had gone missing.

Jester hugged Marion, promising to message her more often. The Ruby kissed Jester’s forehead, turning to the others and instructing them to take care of her little Sapphire. She then, much to Caleb’s surprise, took his hands gently in hers, speaking to him quietly. “They are good people, Caleb, or Jester would not stay with them. She will look after you too.”

Caduceus and Nott rode the cart; Caduceus driving and Nott sitting beside him, while everyone else walked alongside.

The travel to Zadash would take about six days, give or take.

Caleb was the only one to really make a note of the time it would take, though he did not mention it to the others. A six-day journey, six days closer to Rexxentrum. _If_ he could find a way to get them to travel to Rexxentrum at all.

The left early enough so they would cross the border into the Empire the first day. None of the Nine really wanted to have to deal with the guards first thing in the morning the next day, and it was just close enough they could get there shortly before nightfall if they really tried.

For the most part, they traveled in comfortable silence. Nott and Caduceus sometimes traded off with the others for driving, either Molly or Jester urging Caleb to take breaks by sitting on the back of the cart.

It was well into the afternoon, evening a few hours off and the border growing closer when Molly approached Caleb for a quick word.

Molly hopped up to sit beside Caleb on the back of the cart. Molly and Yasha had suggested a few hours ago he go sit and he had, of course obeyed. Molly felt a little bad about Caleb following gentle suggestions as if they were orders, but he’d seen how scrawny the wizard was. He also knew mages generally weren’t the most physically hardy in the first place, so he ignored the guilt in favor of being glad Caleb wasn’t going to drop from exhaustion.

“So the Empire doesn’t care for non humans.” He began without preamble, giving Caleb a reassuring smile when the mage looked at him warily. “Which means Beau usually heads up talking to any Crowns Guard when we travel. You can probably see the problem with that already.”

“Hey!” Beau complained from her position walking on the right front of the group.

Molly threw a side glance in her general direction, grinning before turning back to Caleb. “Sometimes they’ll listen to Caduceus, or Nott when she’s got her disguise up. So when we get up to the Gates just follow Beau’s lead. Without all the insults and irritating attitude.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” The cart rocked slightly as the monk swung herself up onto the corner, using Caduceus at her back to help brace herself as she perched precariously on the edges of the wooden frame.

“You’re about to have a chance to prove it.” Nott commented, drawing their attention and pointing forward. The tall stone walls of the boarder gates were visible, spanning across the narrow valley pass that linked Nicodranas and the Empire. The cliff walls on either side steadily grew in height as a natural barrier along the remaining boarder of the two nations, leaving this the only safe, easy passage between them. There were sentry outposts dotted along the cliffs, archer towers stretching as defense even past their view.

“Five gold says they stop us.” Beau tossed out smugly, hopping down to walk beside the cart again.

“They _always_ stop us, Beau.” Jester huffed with arms crossed.

Beau snickered, moving up to take the lead in front of the cart.

“I am not sure I will be of much use…” Caleb spoke quietly, trying very hard not to show the fear at contradicting Mollymauk.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just being one more human, no offense, will probably be good enough.” Molly assured him, speaking just as quietly. He gave Caleb one more smile before hopping off the cart and walking once more.

Relieved that he had neither offended Mollymauk, nor would he be expected to attempt to assist Beauregard in speaking with the crowns guard, Caleb removed himself from the cart to join the others on foot for the next hour or so it took to actually reach the gates.

~~

As predicted, they were stopped by the guard, though not for the reason any of them would have guessed. The guard on the Nicodranas side seemed vaguely more tolerant than any of their previous experiences, only giving a small disapproving look at the two Tieflings and Half-Orc in the party. He gave a cursory glance into the cart, checking for anything suspicious, but ultimately waved them on through.

It was the easiest time they’d _ever_ had entering the Empire.

That was until there was a barked-out order of “halt” barely thirty feet into the Empire side of the gate. The group turned in confused surprise to watch as a gold armored crowns guard moved to grab Caleb, dragging the wizard roughly back toward the gates.

“Hey, what the hell!” Beau snapped, striding over toward them quickly. She did not miss how Yasha had to grab Molly’s arm to keep him from storming over, nor how Jester reached up to hold onto the symbol of the Traveler around her neck, gaze fierce.

Two other guard from this side of the Gate also approached, the ringleader shoving Caleb into their hands. They each held one of Caleb’s arms, holding him firmly between them, scowling at his sputtered words and meager struggles to be released.

“It is illegal for mages to operate outside of the crown. Whether sneaking in or out, they’re to be arrested and brought back to the Assembly for trial. This here is obviously a mage.” The captain informed Beauregard in a disinterested tone, one hand gesturing at Caleb.

“Yeah, no shit, he’s with us.” Beau snapped out impatiently, throwing an icy glare at the guards holding Caleb. One looked about a second away from punching the wizard, something that was guaranteed to start a fight.

“You’re traveling on foot, with a mage?” The leader asked, tone conveying just how stupid he thought entire idea was.

“Yeah, and we work for the crown, asshole.” Beau retorted, digging into her pockets and pulling out the symbol of King Dwendal that she had been given what felt like forever ago.

The guard peered at the symbol, eyes narrowed, then grunted. He turned to take a step toward Caleb and the other two guards, grabbing Caleb by the collar of his coat and all but throwing him toward the monk.

Beau reached out to grab Caleb’s arm by reflex, steadying him so he would not fall. She pushed him behind her towards the others as she released him, still glaring at the crowns guard.

“Take better care next time. Rogue mages are not tolerated.” The guard warned, before turning back to return to his post.

“I have never been happier that you used to almost be a spy.” Molly muttered to Beau as she and Caleb rejoined the group.

Beau snorted, rolling her eyes as they all continued walking, the wooden cart rolling along in front of them. She stayed beside Caleb as Molly moved forward to catch up to Fjord, hopping up on the cart beside Caduceus to speak with the two of them. Beau sighed, glancing back after a while to frown at the stone walls in the distance.

“Hey, you okay?” Beau asked Caleb, turning her attention back to the mage. She took a step away from him, giving him more room with the question made his shoulders twitch in an almost flinch.

“Ah, y-yes, Beauregard. I am, ah, okay.” He answered, glancing towards her but not meeting her eyes.

“Sorry man, I didn’t know I needed to tell them you were with us. Does that shit happen often?”

“It’s pretty stu-pid not letting people leave the empire just because they know magic.” Jester complained, joining the two of them.

“Ah, it is… It is not that we, ah, cannot travel. Or- or that this happens often, but…” Caleb explained, trying to choose his words carefully, fully aware of Beau’s previous reactions to him making use of a teleportation circle. “Returning to the Empire is most often done using a teleportation circle, returning directly to Rexxentrum, at the the, ah, the Academy.”

“The guards at Roarksguard garrison didn’t seem to mind.” Jester commented, tone somewhat questioning.

“They also tried to kill us, so I don’t think that counts.” Beau snorted, frowning as Caleb’s step faltered slightly. The mage remained walking where he was, breath almost too carefully even.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m over it.” Beau tried to assure him, shifting to lightly bump her shoulder with his since he wasn’t looking at her at all.

“A-ah, yes, Beauregard. T-thank you.” Caleb replied, glancing up questioningly at the monk.

Beau’s brow furrowed, unsure how to interpret the mix of confusion, fear, and expectancy in the mage’s eyes. He was obviously uncomfortable and, yeah, she probably should have just kept her distance, but she was trying to make friends. Caleb didn’t move away from her though, didn’t try and put any distance between them for all he looked _very_ skittish.

He hardly ever moved away from any of them when they came up to him, no matter how uncomfortable he was.

Jester was glaring at her again though, so she muttered a quick “yeah, sure” before moving ahead to join the quiet conversation between Molly and Fjord.


	32. Chapter 32

The sun was well into setting beyond the horizon by the time the gates were far enough behind them to barely be visible. The Mighty Nine traveled until the open land was covered in darkness, an unspoken agreement between them to put as much distance between themselves and the pass as they could. Eventually, Fjord directed the cart off the thin dirt road after catching Jester yawning one too many times.

Caduceus tended to the horse once they’d gotten far enough off the road. He unhitched it from the cart, speaking quietly to it in Sylvan as he tied it loosely to the back, patting its neck as it nibbled at the grass.

Jester and Nott were wandering around looking for something to start a campfire with, making a game of it.

Molly and Fjord took it upon themselves to unload the sleeping packs and few supplies out of the cart.

Yasha kept a quiet eye on the three who were essentially blind in the dark, standing next to Beauregard as the monk leaned against her slightly.

Caleb remained close to the cart, standing nearer the front; Yasha, Beau, and Caduceus loosely gathered near the rear of the cart.

Most of them were little more than dark shapes moving in the night air to his eyes. The light of the moon would illuminate them occasionally, allowing Caleb to make out Yasha and Beauregard closest to him and Caduceus with the cart horse. The clouds often covered even that small light, leaving the wizard blind but to afraid to cast a light cantrip without permission.

The silence was uncomfortable to Caleb, anxiety creeping in as the others set about making a camp. They were ignoring the obvious solution and he did not understand why.

“I could… cast the mansion spell? If, ah, if you wish?” Caleb offered tentatively, shoulders inching up as he tried not to cringe away from drawing their attentions. He should not interrupt them, should not question their decisions. If they did not wish to make use of his abilities, it was not his place to question.

Yasha and Molly shared a look across the nearly complete campsite.

It wouldn’t do much good for team bonding if they were in some arcane mansion and Caleb hid himself away in his room. Of course, they would all be happy to have somewhere safe to rest without worrying too much about missing something when keeping watch.

The blood hunter eventually turning to Caleb, shaking his head. “It’s nice of you to offer, but no thanks. What if instead you cast that neat little dome?”

“Of course, Mollymauk.” Caleb agreed quickly, hesitating before adding an explanation to the confines of the spell. “Ah, I should- ah, after the spell has been cast, all of you may enter and leave as you wish, but if I leave the dome the spell will end.”

“That’s fine.” Molly said with a wave of his hand, not that the mage could see. “If you want, you can cast it whenever.”

“I think we need to have a talk first.” Fjord sighed as he interrupted the discussion, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mind giving us some light for a bit, Caleb?”

“O-of course.” Caleb agreed shakily, dropping his gaze as he turned to face Fjord, casting the light cantrip before folding his arms obediently behind him.

He had known not to question them but had done so anyway. His stomach sank, but he knew he deserved the correction. Tests of concentration were unpleasant, something he did not particularly excel at either, though he was grateful they had no crystals to use instead. However long this exercise lasted, it was preferable to the burning pain of his own magic ripping jagged lines in his skin. 

And, of course, Mollymauk would be displeased now; he was already failing to follow the rule to not be afraid, though he tried to hide it. What would the consequences of that be?

He forced himself to remain still, heart thudding quickly in his chest as Fjord approached. There was movement behind him, and he almost turned, breath speeding slightly. He caught himself before he could move, shoulders tensing as he recognized the cast shadow from the light orbs as Yasha’s tall form.

“He just means talk, Caleb.” Beau told him, coming up beside him.

Caleb nodded automatically without really processing the words, a shiver running through him at being surrounded. He was used to only Master Ikithon, but it made sense they would all take part.

“Beau, back off.” Molly hissed. “Give him some space.”

“Jeez, sorry, I was just trying to help…” Beauregard muttered, backing away from the wizard at the demand.

Caleb glanced in her direction, though kept his gaze lowered, watching her feet move out of his view. It did little to reassure him, the anticipation of waiting ratcheting up his heart rate. Perhaps… perhaps a response was required. He had no desire for this test to begin but waiting in anticipation was nearly as painful.

“What… would you like to talk about?” He asked carefully, keeping any trace of stammering from his voice. _Weakness is not tolerated._ He remembered to use the same phrase as Fjord had done, recalling Molly’s correcting his response to such an expression yesterday morning.

“R-right, right…” Fjord agreed, looking very uncomfortable and off balance. “I think… Okay, you know most of us are from Xhorhas, or at least have not lived in the Empire. And I think we got off on the wrong foot with you.”

Caleb didn’t move except to lift his gaze to face forward, nails digging into his wrists as we waited. It was quiet for a long moment, enough Caleb ventured another response, guessing this was one of Fjord’s preferences.

“Yes, Fjord.”

This wasn’t going exactly how Fjord had imagined, and he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he’d said that had gotten them so off track.

He hadn’t had much interaction with Caleb personally, very little at all in fact. He had only his general observations to go on, and what he’d been told by Molly and Caduceus (and a few of the others, but mostly just those two).

He’d had an inkling early on of Caleb’s issues, the mage asking permission to go to his room that first night should have been a red flag, but he’d let it go. When he’d talked to Molly the next morning, the Tiefling had told him about Jester and Caleb’s firelit conversation, so he hoped that it really was just as Caduceus had said, nerves.

And he’d shown a little bit of personality when Yasha had first mentioned Eodwulf. It wasn’t exactly a positive experience, Beauregard hadn’t helped at all, but it was something more than the distant coldness Fjord had mostly seen from him.

Fjord had noticed Caleb was willing enough to give information when it was asked, but so far hadn’t ever volunteered anything on his own (except for now, offering to summon the mansion). Even when it was about his one-time friend Eodwulf and it was Beau asking, he’d seemed willing enough to talk. Both on the way to the campsite in Xhorhas and after the battle there.

He would have had to be blind not to notice Caleb was really scared of ALL of them at Yussa’s tower. Beau most of all, but Fjord wasn’t dumb enough to think it was exclusively the monk.

Molly and Yasha then basically reaffirmed his own suspicions, pointing out how Caleb was so quick to do most anything they told him to. And rules? Eodwulf _had_ mentioned rules, and if Caleb had been living with rules his entire life, it made sense he expected them to have a set as well. Except they didn’t and Caleb was either making up his own or was just following the same set he’d always done. Which, given his nervous behavior, was not exactly a healthy way for him (or anyone) to live.

It was made all the messier with the implications that both the Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul were involved with a possible plot against the King. He hoped Beau would be able to find out just how high up the problem went in the Soul, and he wondered if Trent were involved on the Assembly side.

It would make sense, since the older mage hadn’t tried helping deal with a supposed rogue mage, and his entire demeanor had changed after that battle in Gandre. Fjord didn’t really suspect Caleb had anything to do with it, but it had the potential to cause problems down the road if Trent really was involved.

And what happened back there at the gates…

“I guess, uh, should we expect people to question you being with us often?” Fjord tried starting over, shaking his head. Times like these he wondered if the only reason he was the so called ‘elected leader’ was simply because no one else wanted to do it. “We’re used to getting that kinda attitude toward Molly or Jester or myself, but for you, that’s…”

“As the guard at the pass stated, rogues are not tolerated.” Caleb explained carefully when it was apparent Fjord had finished, keeping his gaze forward. “Crowns guard will be most suspicious, if they identify me as a mage at all, though they will have less cause to apprehend me within the Empire. Beauregard has the King’s symbol, and they would release me back to her unless given cause not to do so.”

“Relea- Caleb, is that how all mages are treated in the empire?” Fjord asked.

Caleb’s gaze slowly focused on Fjord before sliding around the rest of the Nine. Jester and Nott were stacking wood in preparation to make a fire, but even they were paying attention. None of them were close enough to so much as touch him.

“I don’t- It… M-most are… escorted to w-where ever they are assigned to go, or they have spells to… to transport themselves to the, ah, the assigned mission t-themselves as well as return to the Assembly.” Caleb stumbled to explain, careful neutrality broken. Why were none of them _doing_ anything... “Any who could not- or… or would, ah, would be assumed they were acting outside the crown’s control.”

“Yeah, it’s the control part that’s bothering me. I thought you guys worked for them. Exclusively, but still...” Fjord stated, moving to help Jester with the fire.

“Except they don’t _pay_ him.” Jester added, leaning back to let Fjord work on the fire. “How can you work for someone if they don’t pay you.”

“Okay, so we’ll keep an eye out for crowns guard in Zadash, just… try and avoid them or something.” Fjord stated, not entirely sure how to tackle that particular issue in conversation. Or ever… when had the Empire gotten so messed up?

“But I guess that brings me to the next thing that I’ve been wondering about. Eodwulf mentioned breaking rules?” Fjord sat down on the ground as the fire took, flames slowly growing in the stack of wood Jester and Nott had made.

Jester scooted back some, looking over at Caleb and patting the ground next to her invitingly.

Caleb hesitated, glancing around at the others as they found places to sit as well, many of them on the already laid out bedrolls. He moved to sit where indicated, unsure what to expect anymore. They weren’t punishing him for anything, nor did any of them look angry.

He didn’t look over at Mollymauk, knowing he was most certainly disappointing the purple Tiefling. He couldn’t stop the shaking of his hands, the slight tremor in his shoulders. Mollymauk did not want him to be afraid, but he just… he could not stop.

“He was- It-“ Caleb looked down at his hands, picking nervously at the fresh linen wraps around his arms as he explained. “Master Ikithon did not… He disapproved of us speaking Zemnian. There- there is- ah, it breeds mistrust, it is not…”

“That’s bull, there’s nothing distrustful about a language.” Beau snorted.

“It might be if you’re from the Empire.” Fjord pointed out.

“I’m _from_ the Empire!” Beau retorted, smirking.

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Fjord complained, scowling at Beau. He shook his head, slowly turning his attention back to Caleb. “Anyway, Caleb we don’t have rules like that with us. Speak whatever language you want.”

“There are no punishments or correction for anything either.” Mollymauk chimed in. The Tiefling shrugged when Fjord looked over at him with a confused frown. “You can ask if you want to, but it’s about as bad as it sounds.”

Fjord looked over at Caleb, the wizard carefully not making eye contact with anyone. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, but he’s right. No one’s going to hurt you for doing or not doing something.”

“Pretty stupid not letting you speak a language…” Jester muttered, poking the fire with a stick.

“He was teaching me.” Caleb said carefully.

“Look, none of us exactly have a picture perfect example of a good home life growing up, but Trent wasn’t teaching you, he was being an abusive asshole.” Beau pointed out bluntly, tone gruff.

Caleb shrank back from the somewhat angry tone, Beauregard looking away as Jester hissed out the monk’s name in annoyance.

The group fell into awkward silence for a few long minutes, Caleb sitting in tense uncertainty. He did not know if this ‘talk’ was completed, nor how to process what they had told him. He did not know if he was expected or required to begin casting the tiny hut spell either. He had no direction, nothing familiar to hold onto. There was just silence broken only by the crackling of the growing fire, the heat and sound of which Caleb was trying studiously to ignore.

Trent _had_ been teaching him. He deserved the corrections, the punishments for failure. How else could he... could he make up for what- what he had- had done.  
Caleb’s hands trembled as they clenched the layers of his coat. He hadn’t been there, he hadn’t, it wasn’t... It was wrong. Master had told him…

“It’s okay, Caleb.” Jester’s soft voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts, drawing his attention. “Beau’s not mad at you.”

He nodded mutely, trying and failing to force himself to relax. Every so often, a short tremor would run across his shoulders, fearful anxiety escaping despite his best efforts to be good, to be still and _not_ afraid. He was failing miserably.

Fjord let out a sigh and it was only the bowstrung tension in his body that kept Caleb from flinching. “Let’s just get some rest.”

“W-would you still, ah, do you w-wish me to cast the spell?” Caleb ventured nervously; gaze fixed on the ground in front of him. He _hated_ the way his voice shook, his failure at even that small thing, Master Ikithon would have-

“Only if you want to, Caleb.” Jester answered from beside him.

He reached into his components bag to retrieve the crystal bead, shifting back and onto his knees to begin the spell. Mollymauk had requested he cast it, so he would do so. Jester said he could if he wanted to, and he wanted to please them.

His hands shook as he began casting, stumbling over the incantations when the dancing light cantrip faded and having to start over. Fjord standing to move to his own sleeping roll broke his concentration again only seconds later. An inexcusable amount of time past the spell’s one-minute casting time, the translucent walls of the spell enclosed the group.


	33. Chapter 33

Most of the group were woken in the morning by the sudden intrusion of sunlight, the dome around them dropping abruptly as the spell reached its end. Beauregard was already awake, perched on the bench of the cart keeping watch.

The wind had picked up with the rising of the sun, the clouds moving quicker in the sky overhead. It didn’t feel like rain thought, and Beau would guess they would have some great weather for travel again today.

“Bout time you guys woke up.” She commented with a smirk as she noticed their movements, hopping to the ground and wandering over to them. Beau stood over Jester, nudging the cleric with her foot when she grumbled and tried to cover her face from the sunlight.

Caleb was already sitting up, looking as if he’d been awake for some time already. If Beau had to guess, she’d say he’d been awake about as long as she had. The monk had avoided drawing close to the wizard after waking, finding her way outside the dome to get a quick workout in. If that workout had mainly consisted of sitting alone and meditating, she dared anyone to call her out on it.

Beau figured her movements had probably woken Caleb, skittish as he was it wouldn’t be surprising. But he hadn’t moved so far as she had seen, and she certainly wasn’t going to question him about it.

“C’mon Jes, you gotta get up.” She told the cleric, squatting down to poke her with a finger. She chuckled as Jester sat up, the cleric rubbing a hand sleepily across her face.

“mwake now.” Jester yawned, stretched as Beau moved away to make sure the rest of them were waking up as well.

Caduceus was already poking the fire into life again, presumably with the idea of making some breakfast. Molly was stretching lazily, already on his feet too, and Fjord and Nott had begun packing up their bedrolls. Caleb followed their lead after a moment hesitating.

The mage was first to bring his to the cart, placing it there and standing watching the others move about the camp. Beau tried not to be too obvious watching him, but it bothered her how worried he looked, the nervous glance he gave Fjord when the half orc drew close while putting his own pack into the cart.

He obviously didn’t trust them, apparently didn’t want to be anywhere near them. No wonder Molly had hissed at her to give him space last night. The way his eyes skipped between all of them moving around the camp... She tried to tell herself it would be fine, he'd realize eventually they meant what they said. They weren't going to hurt him. Probably best if she kept her distance too, though. Might make him feel more at ease.

“Caleb, do you want to help me?” Caduceus called to the wizard.

Beau watched as Caleb immediately moved over toward Cad, speaking a quiet question of “yes, Caduceus?”

The Firbolg made gentle suggestions, Caleb following his words until eventually there was a breakfast prepared for all of them. It kept Caleb distracted, enough the rest of them quickly broke the camp down. Beau herself felt more at ease without Caleb standing awkwardly. He was still new to the group, hadn’t quite found his place in their system of travel, so she didn’t hold it against him.

Quick enough, everything was loaded for travel and everyone had eaten at least _something_. Even if Caleb only picked at what Caduceus had carefully offered him, and Jester complained about the lack of pastries.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they eventually got back onto the dirt road. Jester tried to start a conversation with Caleb once or twice, but even she could tell he was uncomfortable and eventually left him alone.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Beau asked after a few hours, joining Fjord on the driver bench of the cart. “I mean, we go to Zadash, I talk to Dairon, then what? We gonna go to Rexxentrum, check out the Assembly too?”

“Yes, Beau, let’s walk right into one of the most powerful organizations in the Empire that may or may not be involved in a plot against the King, knowing absolutely nothing. That’s a wonderful idea.” Fjord replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes when the monk flipped him off with a smirk.

“Har, har. You know you wanna go kick someone’s teeth in just as much as me.” Beau laughed.

Fjord chuckled but didn’t disagree with her. He might not know quite as much as Molly and Jester (or even Beau) about Caleb, but what he’d seen and heard so far was bad enough. He knew from his own experience how unkind the Empire could be, but he’d thought it really just applied to anyone not human. Even then it had been more along the lines of ‘get out or die’ not ‘we dictate everything you do’.

“They got that big library at the Cobalt Archive in Zadash, right? Maybe we can see if there’s any information on that symbol Eodwulf wore.” Fjord suggested.

“That could work.” Beau agreed. “Gives you guys something to do while I talk to Dairon, see if anyone else knows what the hell is going on with Roarksguard.”

“Jester can draw us a picture of what it looked like, and we can see if we can find it in the library somewhere.” Fjord continued, brow furrowing in thought. “We can ask around the city too, see if anyone’s heard anything. If Jester will draw a couple copies that design we can see if anyone’s passed through wearing it or something.”

Nott hopped onto the back of the cart horse nimbly, turning to sit so she faced Beau and Fjord as she joined the conversation. “The problem is we don’t know much of anything. Other than the name of one mage, a symbol, and the possibility that both the Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul might be involved. And both of those are just guesses.”

“Hopefully Dairon will have some information or can maybe point us in the right direction.” Beau said hopefully.

They were quiet for a moment, a slow frown forming on Fjord’s face. “Hey, Beau. Before Caleb came to join us, you had mentioned mages in the Empire didn’t have much political power, or something like that, not respected.”

“Yeah?” Beau asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not accusing you of anything, so don’t punch me or anything, but ‘not respected’ is a long way away from ‘controled’.” Fjord said carefully.

Beau leaned back on the cart bench beside Fjord, crossing her arms and looking down at her shoes propped up on the slat in front of them. “Like I said before, I didn’t have a lot to do with the mages. Cobalt Soul and Cerberus Assembly don’t mix well, so there wasn’t much overlap when either of the two’s skills were needed for something. I’d interacted with a few, but… well.”

Beau shrugged again, frown deepening. They hadn’t been great interactions, usually ended in someone walking away bleeding. It had caused her teachers no end of headaches, but so had most of what she had done in her early years training with the monks. Thanks to Caleb, she now worried about the other side of those little arguments, how much of the mage’s attitudes were simply a façade.

“Like you, I figured they were just basically… people, I guess. Except their skills were employed exclusively by the Assembly, and by extent, the crown.”

“Whatever the King does or doesn’t let mages do, it doesn’t explain how scared he always is.” Nott pointed out, peering between the two of them to the wizard in question.

Beau glanced back to where Caleb was walking along behind the cart, Jester walking near him a couple feet away. He did seem less afraid, if a little distracted. Molly was on the wizard’s other side, giving him just as much room. It looked like they were having a little better luck with keeping a conversation going, but Caleb still didn’t look entirely comfortable.

Yasha was further to the right, midway between both groups, keeping watch. Caduceus walked beside her, the two of them conversing in quiet voices every so often.

“Yeah. He’d mentioned Trent a couple times when talking bout those ‘rules’.” Beau said thoughtfully. She shook her head and shrugged with a sigh. “I can still ask Dairon about how the Assembly trains their people, but I think it’s a little obvious some of their methods aren’t exactly what you’d call humane.”

Fjord nodded, letting out a long sigh. “It’s a start.”

~~

The sky was clear that night, the group once again not stopping until well after dark. No one mentioned casting either the mansion spell, nor the tiny hut spell, and Caleb was too afraid to offer again. He had escaped punishment once, he dared not repeat the mistake and risk the end of their patience.

His head was a mess of information. Rules from Master Ikithon, rules from Beauregard, rules from Mollymauk, rules from Caduceus, vague preferences he had observed from various members of the group… All of it contradicted by their words of assurance they did not wish to harm him. They presumably disapproved of Master Ikithon’s teaching methods, if Beau’s snapped criticism from last evening were any indication, but were theirs so different?

Though less plainly laid out, the rules were still there _they had to be, how could he please them otherwise_ , made apparent in their words and actions. Mollymauk had disciplined him after the battle in Gandre, Beauregard had shouted at him multiple times and come close to administering her own discipline. Caduceus’ warnings had been far gentler, but warnings none the less. All within his first day alone with them.

They **had** rules, he had simply not reached the limit of their patience.

Nineteen more days. Nineteen more days and he would be back in Rexxentrum _failure is not tolerated, he could not disappoint his master_ , Master Ikithon’s plans completed. He would have only one master to anticipate orders for, only one master to face for correction, for punishment.

He could do this, he could last that long, he could… he-

He could not do this.

How long until that careful patience from Molly ended? Until the red glow of the Tiefling’s eyes blazed with fury, pain raining down upon Caleb for breaking one of his impossible rules. How long until Jester saw him for his true worth? A mage with blood-soaked hands, a dog of war meant to be used.

Caleb curled up tightly in his bedroll, shivering and wishing he could summon Frumpkin. All but Fjord seemed to like the cat, but Caleb did not have permission, could not bring himself to ask. He could not even whisper the request to one of the, none lay close enough. Mollymauk had said they would give him space, as bewildering as the promise was, and they had kept it.

It was… it was maddening almost. They gave him no orders, though he obeyed their every suggestion, few enough though those were. They kept themselves out of arms reach, they did not touch him, did even not sleep near him. They were around him, he was not left outside of the group, but each of them were close to at least one other, within easy arms reach.

He had not realized how quickly he had become accustomed to the casual way they moved him around. As terrifying as their proximity was, it was better than the feeling of being ignored, of being unwanted. He needed to be useful to them, else he would fail. There were so many of them, yet Caleb felt isolated and it had only been one day.

It was enough to make him wonder if this was the punishment for being afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The M9 really have NO clue what they are doing.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on today's episode of "how to accidentally **_break_** your wizard"

This morning followed much the same pattern as the previous. If the others had traded keeping watch the previous evening, none had woken Caleb for him to take a turn. He tried not to let the failure burn at him; he had not cast the hut spell, he had not kept watch during the night, he was of no use to them.

_Useless failure, get out of my sight._

They watched him but gave no orders. Spoke to him, but gently, answering any of his offers of assistance with ‘if you want’. It felt like a test, like a trap, and he shied away. And they did _nothing_ in face of his disobedience.

The day’s travel was much the same as the last, Jester and Mollymauk walking nearest him, but still keeping out of arms reach. They conversed mostly with each other, though Caleb tried to reply appropriately to any words they directed towards him. Near midday, they had stopped trying to draw him into a conversation at all.

It was terrifying, another gesture of his uselessness to them. Yet it was a relief, it gave fewer opportunities for him displease them further. He could not give a wrong response, an incorrect answer, if he was not made to speak.

Again, no one asked him to cast any spells when they stopped for the night. Nott handed him his meal, doing nothing, not so much as touching him, as his hands shook accepting it from her, his thanks a pathetic stuttered word.

_Weak, pathetic._

Again, the others kept watch during the night and did not attempt to wake him for Caleb to take a turn.

When morning came, it was again the same as the previous. Caduceus requested his assistance this morning, though Caleb knew he did not need it. Still he obeyed, desperate for anything to please them, the others giving him ample distance as they broke the camp down to be ready for travel. He did not understand what they were doing… They were not ignoring him, many times he felt their eyes on him, caught them watching him. But he could not determine what it is they _wanted_.

The failure ate at him.

Nothing changed but the landscape. Flat plains turned to slight hills, bushes and trees doting the area. These eventually thickened, until the open plain was a loose forest around them, the outer edges of the Curengreen Forest.

When dark fell once more on the fourth day of their journey and they had moved off the dirt road, those with darkvision set about making the camp. Fjord had found them a secluded clearing between the tree’s, he and Molly doing a once around the area before they really settled to making it into a camp.

Once again, Caleb had no direction, no orders to follow, no _use_.

Caleb stood by the cart in the darkness as he had the past two evenings, the bright moonlight overhead giving him a clearer view of the proceedings even through the leaves in the branches above. This time, Nott and Jester were unloading things to make the camp, Fjord and Molly preparing the fire. Again, no one had mentioned him casting the tiny hut spell. No one wanted him at all.

Caleb shifted closer as Nott stood in the bed of the cart, placing one hand on the short wooden slats, eyes worriedly watching Mollymauk in the distance. He wasn’t entirely sure he was _allowed_ to ask, but whatever he was currently doing was not the correct course of action, otherwise they would not be punishing him. As physically painless as this punishment might be.

“Nott.” His accent was thicker, the whispered words struggling to leave his tight throat as he caught the goblin’s attention. “Ah, should… should I, ah, c-cast the, ah, the ‘dome’ spell?”

Nott gave him a half smile, reaching out to pat his hand gently. “Only if you want to, Caleb.”

The same answer as given to all his questions, but that one difference in her behavior made his mistake clear.

He felt relieved, but also… a sick sort of pleasure that he’d finally chosen correctly, that he’d done something to end the period of correction. They must want him to cast the spell but do so without their express direction each evening. He felt stupid, slow for not having come to that conclusion sooner.

He took out his crystal bead, approaching what Fjord had set up as the center of the camp. The half-orc was poking at the slow staring fire, sitting upon a fallen log that had conveniently been found in the clearing. He glanced up at Caleb but made no comment as the wizard knelt to cast the spell. Those who had already laid their sleeping mats out kicked them closer, within the confines of the spell, but otherwise said nothing as well.

Jester smiled at him when he glanced her way, and Caleb clung to the small hope that he had succeeded at this unusual test. That it was enough.

~~

Once the others had found their places in the dome to sleep, Nott took the opportunity to speak to Caleb about something that had been nagging at her. The mage was sitting on a fallen log that had been encompassed into the dome, Fjord using a part of the other side of it as a pillow as he snored softly.

“Caleb, I wanted to ask you something.”

Caleb looked over at Nott, the goblin’s voice soft enough not to wake the others even in this enclosed space. He was glad for the interruption to his thoughts, the dying light of the fire bringing flashes of impossible memories. “Yes, Nott? What would you like to know?”

“It about what Eodwulf called you. Bren?” Nott asked, hopping up to sit on the fallen log beside him. “A lot of us have had different names over the years, so it’s okay.” Nott paused, thinking for a moment.

“Like sometimes I am Veth. I used to be Veth all the time, but… there was this curse, and, well...” Nott shook her head. “I’m still trying to find a way to change back. So, for now I am Nott. But what about you? Do you want to be Bren again?”

“Bren…” Caleb paused, curious about the mention of a curse. He could surmise that Nott’s previous form had been that of the halfling disguise she had worn a few times now. It made sense given both Luke and Yezza (for all he had only seen them once) were both halflings.

Caleb ignored his own curiosity, obediently answering Nott’s question. He would tell her anything she wanted to know, cut open old wounds if only to please her. “Bren died a long time ago, he died with my parents, in that fire.”

He drew in a slow breath, fighting back the wave of memories that were not true, they… they _couldn’t_ be. His stomach twisted in knots, though he forced himself to continue speaking. He had not fully answered her question. “I do not know…if I could be him again. Bren wanted to do great things, to be a great mage, he wanted to make the world… a little better than it was.”

“And you don’t want those things anymore?” Nott asked softly, sneaking a look at him from the corner of her eye.

“What I want does not matter. Has not, for a very long time.” Caleb replied, voice trailing off in whisper. He opened his eyes, staring at the ground between his feet, the dim light of the dome casting an almost amber glow the dark earth.

“Why?” Nott questioned, puzzled.

“I belong to the Mighty Nine now, all of you.” He answered her question, tone matter of fact. This one he knew, this one he could not get wrong.

Nott turned to face him fully, brows furrowed with a frown on her face as she asked him carefully. “You mean you belong _with_ us, right?”

Caleb met her gaze with his own confused one, head cocking slightly. He had said something wrong; he could see as much in her expression. He did not understand; had given the expected response, one that was truth as well. An icy cold feeling was slowly gripping his gut, heart beating faster as he tried, tried to think how to fix what he had said wrong.

“I…am sorry, I do not… is there a difference?”

“Caleb! You don’t _belong_ to us! Not like that!” Nott admonished, voice louder but still quiet and colored by a shocked disbelief.

“But… you..” Caleb fumbled for his words, panic causing his own pulse to race now, breaths coming quicker. They… they couldn’t give him back. Not after… They disapproved of Master Ikithon, of the Empire’s customs in general, he was certain but… They wanted to send him back. He had failed.

Hopelessly he tried to plead with her. “You accepted the Assembly’s offer…”

Caleb didn’t _want_ to go back to Rexxentrum, and not just for fear of the punishment that awaited him for _failing_ should they return him to Master Ikithon.

No. For all their chaos and impossible to comprehend behavior, they were not cruel. Their punishments were different, yes, uncomfortable as they should be, but they did not physically hurt him. They had not put impossible tasks in front of him to drive crystal shards into his skin, testing the limits of his body and magics. They had not-

“Fjord!” Nott turned to shout at the sleeping warlock behind them.

In an instant Caleb shifted to his knees in front of Nott, icy fear gripping his heart as he whispered desperately. “Bitte, please, Nott, please. I am sorry, I did not mean to-“

“Wha- Nott, what?”

Fjord’s sleepy voice, quiet as though it had been, was enough to cause Caleb to stop speaking with a dull click of his jaws snapping shut. His shoulders hitched up for a brief moment, before he made himself sit back on his heels, hands clenching into fists over his knees as he stared at the ground in front of him and forced himself to wait.

He was shaking, heart racing as he heard Fjord stand up, walking around the log to stand a couple feet away from them.

“Nott, what the hell?” Beauregard had woken as well, springing up from her bedroll and all but stepping on Molly as she crossed over to the other three.

Mollymauk hissed, eyes flashing angrily at her before concern took its place as his focus turned to Caleb. The man was stock still on his knees, fine shivers rippling across his shoulders ever so often as he stared down, flinching away from every attempt by the others to reassure him.

Okay, this had gone on long enough. They had tried telling him, they had tried just leaving him alone and giving him space, trying to prove they wouldn’t harm him. Obviously, a more direct sort of proof was needed this time. He made his way over, shouldering Beau out of the way.

“Shut up, just let me…” Molly hissed at the others, tail lashing as he moved to crouch in front of Caleb. The mage wasn’t all there, eyes terrified and distant, muttering a near silently whispered word, over and over. Molly kept his tone soft and calm as he spoke to him. “Caleb, hey, Caleb.”

Mollymauk ignored the flinch as he reached for Caleb, tilting the wizard’s head up to try and meet his eyes. He could tell Caleb was paying attention now, the slight hitch in his breath, the careful way he averted his gaze, the trembling…

“Bitte…”

“Mind telling me what that means, Caleb?” Molly asked gently, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of the wizard. He didn’t let Caleb move away when he flinched and cringed, just stroked his thumb along the man’s cheek.

Caleb met his gaze finally, confusion hidden amidst the fear. “P-please. I-it… Please. Mollymauk, I d-did not… pl-“

Molly shook his head slowly, Caleb’s voice cutting off at the motion. Always so painfully obedient. But Molly didn’t trust himself to keep it together if Caleb kept begging. “Caleb. No one’s going to hurt you, alright? And even if they wanted to, you see Yash over there?”

Caleb’s gaze flickered to Yasha, the barbarian woman having moved to stand some few feet away behind Mollymauk. The Tiefling continued to speak over the panicked draw of breath from Caleb, thumb brushing his cheek again calmingly. “She’s got a damned big sword, and she likes you.”

Caleb looked back at him, again with confusion lurking. It was saddening, because Molly knew it was confusion because he wasn’t hurting him. Gods, when was the last time someone had touched Caleb without intending to cause pain, without the wizard anticipating it. “Whatever you think you did wrong, you didn’t. There are no punishments, no corrections. Remember?”

“Y-yes, Mollymauk.” Caleb agreed shakily, so fucking scared it broke Molly’s heart.

“Nott, what were you two talking about that upset him?” Yasha asked gently, tone soft enough Caleb only glanced at her with a slight bit of worry.

“He thinks he belongs _to_ us.” Nott said, tone distressed. “Caleb, we don’t own you!”

Caleb winced, dropping his gaze for a moment before looking up at Molly with an expression the Tiefling could only label pleading. “I-I can be useful, please.”

_Please let me stay._ Molly could hear that quite clearly in his voice. “If it makes him feel safer, he can belong to us.” Molly said easily, turning to look at Nott, then the others, then back at Caleb. It was worth the shocked disapproval from Nott to see the relief in Caleb’s eyes.

“But we’re all equal here. You don’t have to follow any orders, don’t have do something if you don’t want to. We don’t have rules for you to follow, okay?” He added gently, holding the mage’s gaze.  
Molly dropped his hand as Caleb nodded slightly, beginning to stand but freezing in surprise as Caleb reached up to hold his wrist. The wizard released him immediately, flinching back as if burned. “Bitte… Ich-“

“Hey, hey, no apologies.” Molly cut him off gently, dropping back down to sit on the ground. “I’ll stay if you want.”

Molly glanced up at Beau standing behind Caleb, the monk nodding silently and going to grab the bedroll Molly had been using. She dragged it over to the two, keeping her movements careful as she dropped it beside them.

Caleb turned his head to track her movement but didn’t look up at her. He wasn’t shaking anymore though, so that was an improvement at least.

“Hey, Caleb, can I sleep over here too?” Jester asked sadly, expression an odd mix of hopefulness and guilt.

“J-ja.” Caleb agreed, nodding shakily.

Before long, both Jester and Yasha had moved their sleeping arrangements to surround the mage. Yasha on the other side of Molly, Jester beside Caleb to sandwich him between the two Tieflings. Beau shrugged to herself, moving her stuff to use Jester’s leg as a pillow.

Fjord stayed in his original spot near Caduceus, the Firbolg having quietly watched the unfolding drama in concerned silence. The grave cleric turned his gaze to Fjord as the warlock approached, watching as he settled back down to sleep.

Caduceus leaned back, letting out a slow sigh. “It’s going to take time to unravel the full extent of our new friend.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Fjord muttered. For now, he was just thankful Molly had been able to calm the mage.

Molly shifted to lay along side Caleb, a mere foot or so of distance between them. The wizard closed his eyes face tucked down and hidden, breath hitching every so often, but the tension in his form was slowly relaxing.

Molly felt far less than calm, a rising mass of frustration, fury at the bastards that had ground such a mindset into Caleb that the wizard could hardly fathom anything different. That he was so terrified of not belonging to them, of being sent back. As if they would ever let Ikithon _anywhere_ near him again.

The tip of Jester’s tail flicked back and forth, a sign of her irritation as well. Yasha sat up still, keeping watch even though Caleb’s spell protected them. Her face was unreadable, but for Molly who knew her well, he could see the underlaying ferocity.

Trent had better hope he did not run across them alone ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order a cuddle pile with two sentinel guards on either side?


	35. Chapter 35

Caleb woke to an expanse of violet skin, warm breath against the top of his head, an arm and a leg draped atop his form. The mage was curled up against Mollymauk, face tucked into the blood hunters’ neck. He had curled himself into a small enough ball that the shorter Tiefling could easily wind himself around Caleb.

He could feel someone pressed back to back with him as well, and it was the gentle swish of a tail against his boot that reminded him it was Jester.

He had no idea how to extract himself from the middle of them, nor if he were allowed (or wanted?) to do so. He was comfortable at least, part of him relishing in the proof that he had somehow done something correctly, even through having broken so many of Mollymauk’s rules. They were not ignoring him, were not planning on returning him to the Assembly, to Master Ikithon. Molly said he could belong to them.

“He used to do the same to me, when we were in the circus.” Yasha’s soft voice informed him, quiet enough it somehow did not break the stillness of the early morning. “Do you want me to wake him for you?”

Caleb carefully shifted, moving his head so he could look at Yasha without disturbing the sleeping Molly. She was sitting upright, tall enough to have easily seen him wake. He hesitated, unsure what the correct course of action would be. He did not want to anger Mollymauk.

“He won’t mind.” Yasha spoke up, seeming to have read his thoughts. “He does not do that on purpose, it is just how he is. He would not want to frighten you.”

“Ah-“ Caleb tried to find the words.

“Oooooh, Molly, you look com-fort-able.” Jester teased as she woke noticing Molly’s sleeping arrangement, rolling and siting upright to look at them.

“FUCK!” Beau barked out a curse as her head fell from the blue Tiefling’s leg to the ground with a dull thud in a rude awakening. It effectively woke everyone else in the camp, Nott jumping to her feet and looking around with narrowed eyes and bared teeth. Fjord was on his feet quickly too, falchion appearing in his hand in a splash of water.

Caduceus shook his head, a smile curling on his lips. He chuckled as he looked over at the rest of them, tone amused. “You should really be more careful, Jester.”

Molly cracked open one red eye, peering at Jester leaning above him, before opening the other to look at how he was currently cuddling a very nervous looking mage. He forced himself to pause for a second; jumping away guiltily was not going to leave anyone with a good feeling this morning. Besides, neither of them had _done_ anything, no need to make it awkward.

Instead, he slowly and carefully extracted himself from around Caleb, sitting up and stretching, trying not to let it break his heart too badly when Caleb shrank away from his lifted hands, as he answered Jester. “I was, until _somebody_ interrupted my beauty rest.” He grinned over at her, acting for all the world like this was normal and happened all the time.

Well… if he were honest, it did. If anyone slept too close to him and he was feeling particularly upset. But they all knew that about him, Caleb didn’t. Half of them waking up on the defensive with weapons draws was also not a strange thing to happen. Fjord and Nott both had already figured out what was going on; Fjord rolling his eyes and Nott snickering at the monk. Beauregard sat up, rubbing the back of her head in an exaggerated fashion.

At least the wizard didn’t look too scared. Confused, for sure, wary, a little, but not as afraid as the previous evening. Small mercies there.

In picture perfect example of A+ timing, the dome dropped around them a few moments later, opaque walls sliding noiselessly down and vanishing. Caleb slowly sat up as well, glancing warily at Beauregard as the monk climbed to her feet.

Caleb did not know what to do with himself. Jester had shuffled around him to poke teasingly at Mollymauk, the purple Tiefling looking a little darker violet in the face. The others were similarly as slow to get moving this morning; Fjord sitting back down beside Caduceus with a yawn, Caduceus lazily watching the two Tiefling’s gently taunt each other.

Nott and Beauregard were the only ones moving around, the goblin attempting to get the horse back over to the front of the cart while the monk packed up various things. Beau was making about as much headway as Nott, too busy stopping to tease the goblin to get much work done.

Morning was well underway before they finally got started again on their journey. Mollymauk led Caleb carefully over to the cart once they were back on the road, nudging him to have a seat before hopping up to sit beside him.

Molly smiled gently at Caleb, trying to reassure the mage. He was quiet, no change there, but just as watchful and wary as every previous day. Molly just hoped he wasn’t quite as scared, he knew better than to hope for not scared at all.

“So, we should definitely talk about what the plan is when we get to Zadash.” Molly spoke carefully, addressing the group as a whole, but trying to let Caleb know he was included too. The mage hadn’t really been present, or participant, in any of their planning session so far after all.

“We were talking about that just the other day.” Nott spoke up, moving from her seat beside Caduceus to sit in the bed of the cart with the other two. Fjord hopped up to take her place, nodding agreement.

The cart horse slowed at the added weight, pace sedate enough that Yasha, Beau, and Jester could easily walk behind the cart close enough to participate in the conversation.

“The Cobalt Soul maintains the Valley Archive in Zadash.” Beau spoke up. “So far, the plan is just check that out, see if we can find any useful information.”

“Speaking of which. Jester, do you think you could redraw that symbol Eodwulf was wearing?” Fjord asked the blue Tiefling.

“Of course!” Jester agreed as she nodded enthusiastically, skipping forward to hop into the cart as well. She wiggled past Caleb, the wizard basically falling into Molly’s lap as he tried to get out of her way. Nott was far nimbler avoiding Jester, shaking her head at the cleric.

Jester giggled a very unapologetic apology, sitting on the soft cushion of all the bed rolls as she pulled out her notebook and began drawing carefully.

“Okay, well that’s one part of the plan taken care of.” Molly commented, gently helping Caleb right himself after Jester’s abrupt disruption. There was definitely a hint of red to the mage’s face which Molly might have found adorable if he didn’t worry that Caleb was afraid and imagining all sorts of potential discipline. Best _not_ to make a big deal out of it.

“I can try and find out if any of the other expositors know anything about a plot.” Beau continued; lip curled in a slight smile as she shook her head at Jester. “If it’s got any real potential threat behind it, hopefully Dairon will know something. Or if nothing else, maybe someone knows what happened with Roarksguard. Or what happened with Jenna.”

“Beau mentioned investigating the Assembly the other day, which would be stupid trying to go there, but isn’t there a mage’s school in Zadash?” Fjord asked.

Most of them looked toward Caleb and, after a moment of surprised hesitation he nodded. “Ah, yes. The ah, Halls of Eurodition. There… there is an archive, ah, there as well… if, ah, if you wish to research the iconography of Eodwulf’s symbol? If it, ah, pertains to magic, historically or, ah, or more… recent, it… it may, ah, might be found.”

“That’s a good idea. Especially if there’s no information at the Valley Archives.” Caduceus said, giving Caleb an easy smile. “Do you know anyone there? Someone we could speak with that can be trusted?”

“Ah, it… it has been some time… since I have been to the Halls of Euridition.” Caleb admitted, gaze dropping to fixate on his lap. “It… it was- ah, Oremid Hass was the headmaster, should still be.”

“He someone we should worry about?” Beau questioned, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Caleb’s gaze flickered over to her, but he answered with little hesitation. “I should not think so. He and Master Ikithon are- were friends for a time.”

“Were?” Yasha questioned, picking up on the correction.

“Y-yes.” Caleb stated, fingers picking at the bandages on his sleeves. He should not- but they had asked, and he already kept too much from them. “It was… many years ago, before the war had begun. They… had a difference of opinion.”

“Okay, but do we need to worry about him?” Beau repeated.

“I… I do not u-understand.” Caleb replied, shoulders tensing nervously.

“I mean, is he a greasy old bastard like Trent?” Beau explained impatiently.

“I- h-he is-“ Caleb stumbled over his reply, heart skipping at the monk’s irritation. He hadn’t meant to offend her, had not meant to disobey her demand for an answer. Hearing such a description of Master Ikithon was equally as terrifying, Caleb almost cringing as he too easily imagine the repercussions of _that_.

His attention was drawn to Mollymauk as the Tiefling leaned over to bump his shoulder against Caleb, smiling tightly. “Hey, she’s not mad at you, she’s just an idiot.”

Caleb let out a slow breath, nodding. Mollymauk was not angry and the rest of them seemed to let him deal with Caleb most often. He twisted his fingers in the fabric of his clothing, wishing he could make his hands stop shaking, gaze dropping once more.

“Sorry.” Beau grunted out, frowning as she looked pointedly away from the mage. “In case you can’t tell, I really don’t like Trent. What I mean is, will this Oremid Hass guy give you any problems?”

Caleb looked up at Beauregard at the question, head almost tilting in confusion, his tone reflecting that confusion as he answered. “I- He would not, ah, be a problem for me, no.”

“I think it would be very interesting to speak with mister Hass.” Caduceus added from the front of the cart. “He might have some very valuable insight.”

“So, basically the plan is, go read some books, Beau talks to her contacts, then follow any leads from there. Chat with one of the Assembly mages.” Molly summarized, drawing one leg up to his chest and resting his chin on his knee. “It’s not exactly much of a plan.”

“Do you have a better plan, Molly?” Nott asked, an underlaying sharpness to her tone that caused Molly to look at her with one raised eyebrow. The Tiefling could already tell _that_ was a conversation that needed to happen soon. He could guess what it was about, but he wasn’t going to argue about it right now. He’d said what he had last night, and Caleb wasn’t so terrified anymore. He wasn’t going to feel guilty about it.

“Beau…?” Fjord asked slowly, glancing at Caleb with a concerned look. “Will the monks at the archive let him in? No offense Caleb, but seems like mages aren’t the most popular anywhere here in the Empire. And as I recall, the Cobalt Soul isn’t exactly your biggest fan.”

“It’ll be fine.” Beau replied easily with a shrug. She paused, frown crossing her face and she gave Caleb an evaluating look. Her gaze skimmed across the rest of them, tone a little less sure as she continued. “Maybe just don’t leave him alone, be the ones handing him any books he wants to read… uh. Caleb you might wanna just... kinda stay in the middle of the group. Just in case, you know. But you’ll be fine, it’ll be fine!”

Molly glanced over at Caleb in concern, worried that the monk’s assurances would be having the opposite effect but was surprised to see the wizard looking almost… eager. Happy even? No, happy was probably going too far, but he was certainly not upset at the prospect of visiting the a place full of Cobalt Soul monks who, if rumor (and Beau’s original attitude) were any indication, did not play well with Assembly mages.

“Ja, yes, I will be very careful.” Caleb agreed, accent thicker than usual. He had not expected to be allowed to go with them to the Valley Archive. He had never visited any of the archives controlled by the

Cobalt Soul, the monks were studious in guarding their materials. Master Ikithon was doubly unwelcome, and as he had rarely been out of his master’s guidance, that unwelcome extended to Caleb as well.

Beauregard was an expositor, however, and if she would allow him entry, he would gladly go with them and obey any rules put in place. Mollymauk said there were no rules, but this was obviously an exception. One well worth it for the chance to peruse new books.

“What about Beau at these Halls of whatever?” Jester asked, looking up from her notebook. “Mages don’t like monks, will she be allowed in there?”

“Oh.” Caleb spoke, realizing too slow the question had been directed at himself. He pushed the thought of the Archive's collection from his mind, focusing on paying better attention to the group. “It is unlikely they would turn her away. Oremid Hass has worked with the Cobalt Soul before and is, ah, more accepting. The, ah, the other mages of the school there are all generally younger, in their first few years of learning.”

As such they would be less likely to hold the intense dislike of the Cobalt Soul that was formed in the Academy in Rexxentrum, something Beauregard apparently understood if the release of tension in her shoulders were anything to go by. He himself had spent his first year of learning here, though had been moved to Rexxentrum quickly thanks to his natural gift at manipulating the arcane. From what little he remembered of that time, the assembly students and the resident monks had gotten along well enough.

Jester nodded happily, apparently content with the answer, returning to her drawing.

With little other planning to be done, Yasha and Beau wandered around either side of the cart, flanking the group as they traveled. Mollymauk hopped down to walk as well, though Jester called for Caleb to help her remember the symbol before he could follow suite.

Between the two of them, with Nott giving constructive criticism along the way, they eventually came up with an accurate portrayal of the symbol, as well as a few possible variations. Caduceus switched places with Fjord some time later, Beau switching places with Jester. The cleric managing to get Caleb and Beau started on a conversation of studies and magic before slipping away with a smug expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the event's of last chapter, this one seems slow. But, what ya gonna do.  
> *posts it anyway*


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a few days off, but I am BACK! With _plot things_.

Beauregard and Caleb’s conversation, quiet and sometimes hesitant as it was on the wizard’s side, was the backdrop to the majority of the day’s travel. The edges of the Curengreen Forest around them thinned until they found themselves once more traveling among open plains.

That evening when they stopped for the night, after the fire was flickering and casting an orange glow around the open plain they had stopped in, Caleb stood in center of the camp awkwardly, bead in hand and glancing warily around at them all. Molly guessed he was probably looking for some sign of approval or some indication he was allowed to do… whatever.

The mage caught Jester’s eye, the cleric giving him a grin and a thumbs up. Whether or not she knew what she was doing, Molly had no idea. But he could see it reassured Caleb enough that the wizard knelt to cast the neat little dome spell again.

Once the spell was completed, and Caleb had taken a seat around the fire, Jester and Yasha joined him. The three spoke in low voices; Jester doing the majority of the talking, Yasha chiming in here and there, but Caleb participated as well. It wasn’t much, but it was progress, so Molly was happy.

Molly suppressed a sigh, catching Nott’s golden eyes narrowed at him. Fine, if he must. Jester was showing Caleb more of her drawings to the traveler now, Yasha leaning forward to view them as well.

The day had been going rather well; Caleb had participated in the planning discussion, had helped Jester with making some possible variations of Eodwulf’s symbol, and had even had a decent discussion with Beau without looking terrified of her.

Molly wasn’t in the mood to be scolded and ruin the current high. Still, it wasn’t easy to ignore a goblin glaring at you, and he knew Nott would corner him eventually. Molly stood, heading out of the dome into the night air, giving a cheeky grin to Caduceus when the Firbolg’s gaze met his.

He didn’t notice Nott following him, but he knew she was there none the less.

“Any chance we can leave it at ‘he’s doing better now’ so it’s fine?” Molly asked, turning to regard the goblin with crossed arms.

“No.” Nott huffed, eyes narrowing at him. “Why did you say that to Caleb? We don’t own him; he shouldn’t think that we do.”

“And he’ll get that eventually, but would you prefer he keep trying to follow some rules we don’t even know he’s decided we have?” Molly asked, glancing back toward the camp.

“No, but…” Nott frowned, crossing her arms. “You have to admit it’s not exactly helping.”

“And it’s not hurting anything either.” Molly argued. “He’s known us for what, a week? Let him have this one thing, just for now. We’re a hell of a lot safer than the Assembly. Obviously, he knows that on some level or he wouldn’t want to stay so badly.”

“But-“

“Baby steps Nott. He’s lived with rules and orders for over twenty years or so, wasn’t even allowed to speak his own language for gods sakes. Letting him do what he wants wasn’t working. So yes. He can belong to us for now. I told him there are no rules, I think that’s a good start.” Molly explained as patiently as he could. Not that he knew what the hell he was doing… but making it up as they went had worked out for them overall so far. “He feels safer this way. Hard to relearn how to be your own self if you don’t feel safe.”

Molly sighed, putting one hand on his hip at Nott’s still doubtful expression. “Look, let him get to know us before we throw him in the deep end, how about? I’ve told him a little bit about me, and Yasha, and he seems to trust us at least a little.”

“Alright. I guess.” Nott agreed, though her tone was still worried. “I suppose he did seem okay after I explained the whole Veth curse thing. Before the whole owning thing came up.”

She still disagreed with him, he could tell, but was willing to let it go for now. Molly didn’t blame her for being upset, but he also didn’t regret what he’d said. He didn’t like the idea of… owning… Caleb any more than Nott did. But it was what Caleb was used to, what he expected. Caleb hadn’t exactly coped well with the idea they wouldn’t, just had apparently assumed they didn’t want him and would toss him back to Trent.

But they’d have to be careful not to give him orders, or even suggestions, or requests. Telling him one time he didn’t have to follow rules, and that they wouldn’t hurt him, wasn’t going to magically erase the years of Ikithon’s conditioning.

Fuck, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Neither did any of them, and that was half the problem.

~~

Despite their lack of any clue how to really help their resident wizard, the group managed to make it Zadash the following evening without any other issues.

Even in the muted light of predusk the outer walls of the city were impressive, fifteen feet of stone and mortar standing flanked by mountains on either side. As the group approached from the south, they passed by fields of crops, workers out harvesting as the sky turned red and orange with the setting sun. Many of the workers were already traveling back toward the stone walls, baskets or sacks across their shoulders.

As the fields gave way to tents and hovel towns, some of the workers turned away to find their homes. The Mighty Nine continued forward, sky turning a deep violet with an edge of navy and black, sun vanishing behind the horizon. The 15-foot portcullis as the southern gates were still open, allowing the remaining harvesters to enter the city. Where there were normally two pairs of Crownsguard flanking either side, now there were twice as many.

Upon closer observation, one on either side held the bearing of a mage; thinner with less muscle, no weapon, little to no armor, and occasionally speaking lowly and making a motion with their hands.

These stood roughly thirty feet from all those entering the city, gazes skimming across all peoples who crossed the threshold into Zadash.

“Something seems to be up.” Beau muttered, brow furrowing uneasily, dropping back to walk next to Fjord.

The half-orc held a position near the head of the cart horse, keeping almost as close an eye on the guards as they were on the harvesters and travelers entering the city. He grunted agreement; but didn’t reply. Glancing back, he didn’t see Nott and he hoped she’d tucked herself hidden securely in the cart.

Jester stayed close to Caleb, both following closely behind the cart. Yasha and Molly flanked either side with Caduceus seated in the driver seat. The guards definitely took notice of them, but made no move to stop of question their arrival.

Even within the city, moving through the streets, there was a greater presence of Crownsguard; though to Beauregard’s eye, some of them held the same bearing as the mages at the gates. They wore the standard Crownsguard armor, nothing about them said ‘mage’ but it what her instincts were telling her.

“Thought we were at peace, what’s up with the martial law feel they got going one…” Beau murmured, eyes scanning uneasily over a pair of guards standing watch as they passed.

“We’ll ask around about it when we get supplies. The locals will know something.” Fjord advised quietly. There wasn’t any way to know if this was a full-time thing, or just a curfew being put into place. Neither made sense, but he hoped it was the latter. Otherwise, their time here was going to be a little more stressful.

Beau’s lips thinned in a disgruntled line, but she nodded. The shops they passed on the way to the Innerstead Sprawl were already closed, and there were few enough citizens wandering the streets.

They headed to the western side of the Innerstead at first, each but Caleb already knowing where they were headed. Beau made sure to keep an eye on the mage, not about to forget how the guards at the border had tried to grab him.

The Song and Supper in was unusually quiet as they passed, lacking the liveliness and musicians they remembered from previous stays. Molly and Jester shared a worried glance, Nott’s eyes lingering on the lit but quiet windows of the inn as the goblin joined Caduceus.

The buildings became more run down, streets dirtier as they entered the West Outersteads. The outside wall of the city towered over the slums, a plethora of beggars and cripples sitting against the cool grey stone.

“I think we’ve been away from the Empire too long, I don’t remember this being so…” Beau spoke lowly, lifting a hand halfway to indicated the people on the streets.

Fjord grimaced, nodding. “Was just thinking the same thing.”

The Leaky Tap was as they remembered, though decorated with a few more drunks on the steps. Fjord took the horse and cart toward the alley, Nott remaining with him, while the rest of them headed inside. The interior was simple, but large; space enough for at least a dozen tables. Though the tavern was quiet, the majority of the tables were full. Even the ratty band in the corner played in subdued tones.

Wessek was nowhere to be seen. Behind the bar, in place of the dragonborn, was a sandy-haired human who seemed to be scrambling to keep up with the rush of customers. Claudia moved between the tables with another server, a young looking human female.

Jester hesitated from where she had about to approach the bar, worry crossing her expression.

“Ah, Jester?”

The cleric blinked, looking beside her to see Caleb had continued to follow along beside her and was now watching her with a worried gaze. Jester smiled at him, putting on her best confident cheerfulness as she continued to approach the bar. She called out to the bartender, leaning her palms on the bar as she tried to get the young man’s attention. “Hello, excuse me? We need some rooms!”

“J-just a minute!” The bartender replied, stuttering and doing a double take when he saw Jester was a blue Tiefling.

After a handful of minutes, the barkeeper eventually came over to accept the gold and silver in exchange for room keys. He never fully met Jester’s gaze, was jumpy accepting the gold, shoved the keys into Caleb’s hands as opposed to Jester, then scurried off to the other end of the bar to continue pouring drinks. Jester made a face, but just turned to look for the rest of the group.

They’d found a table easily enough. In fact, the crowd in the tavern seemed a little thinner now, with three more people exiting hurriedly when Fjord and Nott walked inside. Jester and Caleb headed over to them, the mage gently setting the keys on the table in front of Jester before taking his seat.

“Hey, Claudia.” Beau called out as the owner of the tavern moved past, catching the elf’s attention. She lowered her voice as Claudia approached. “What’s going on?”

“There was an attack, little over a week past.” Claudia said, quietly as she could as she balanced a tray of drinks against her hip. She didn’t need any elaboration to what Beau meant, the changes in the city were apparent. “The King sent more guards, they arrived nearly the following evening. Crownsguard are cracking down on anyone they think is suspicious, which boils down to anyone that doesn’t look human enough. Elves and such have been safe enough, but Wessek had to leave the city.”

“Oh my gosh, what happened?” Jester asked.

“He was too different. Your two friends there will want to take care." She advised, nodding toward Jester and Molly. "Lawmaster was injured, nearly killed. No one knows why, she’s a hard-enough woman, but not disliked.” Claudia replied, shaking her head and brushing a stray hair from her face with her free hand. “Since then, people aren’t allowed on the streets after dark. Course they can’t do anything about the homeless and refugees cept lock them up, but they don't.”

“Refugees from what?” Beau questioned; brow furrowed.

“No one knows. But there’s more of them than ever, even now the wars done.” Claudia sighed, shaking her head again. She glanced over as the barkeeper called her name, excusing herself as she headed that way.

“I think we should discuss this somewhere quieter.” Caduceus spoke quietly a few minutes after Claudia had left. The remaining patrons of the tavern were eyeing the group with suspicion, something the Firbolg had noticed growing as time passed.

Fjord and Beau looked to Jester, the cleric passing out the provided keys. “I rented the rooms for the next three days.” She explained, standing up with the rest of them.

“That should be plenty of time.” Molly stated agreeably. “Not sure if we want to try and stay here much longer than that anyway.”

The Nine made their way up the spiral staircase at the back of the tavern, silence seeming to proceed them as they passed the other patrons. It wasn’t exactly noisy at any of the tables, but none of humans were very subtle about their watchful gazes.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain REFUSES to write in a linear fashion. Does anyone else have that problem?  
> Had to sit down and be like... no no. We are walking through this chapter today!

They piled up into Jester and Beau’s room once they reached the second floor. It was silent for a while. Caleb sat on the far side of one of the beds, closest to the wall, Jester sitting beside him as living barrier between him and the others. Whether it was on purpose or coincidence, no one knew.

Beauregard was pacing as best she could given the amount of space available, Yasha leaned against the door while Fjord and Molly claimed seats on the second bed, Caduceus tried to stay out of Beau’s way, and Nott wiggled her way between Jester and Caleb.

“Least we know why there’s so many guards now.” Fjord commented breaking the silence.

“There’s generally an investigation, maybe a bounty put out, when someone attacks a Lawmaster.” Beauregard pointed out, shaking her head. “Doubling the guard at the gate and having a curfew’s basically overkill.”

“War’s been over for at least a month now. It’s not a good sign that things are worse here in Zadash.” Molly said unhappily. “Are we even going to be able to do what we need to here?”

“They aren’t outright arresting or throwing people out of the city yet.” Fjord advised. “So, we should all be fine so long as we don’t get into any trouble.”

“But Claudia said Wessek had to leave the city, and…” Jester added, worry in her voice.

“She said that he left, yes, but he might have done so by his own choice.” Fjord countered. “I understand the sentiment, I really do, but it doesn’t mean he was in current danger or forced out.”

Jester nodded, expression a little less worried at the reassurance.

“Wonder what Claudia meant by refugees? From what? Like Molly said, all the fighting has stopped.” Beau questioned, crossing her arms as she finally stood still.

“I’m not so sure they are all refugees.” Caduceus said with a slight shake of his head.

“What do you mean?” Fjord asked warily.

“Many of them look like they could be, or might just be homeless, but some of them are too clean, to well fed and uninjured.”

“We’ll need to be careful on the streets, who we talk to and what we ask. Especially me, Jester, and Molly.” Fjord said after a moment contemplation. He really hoped these ‘refugees’ weren’t any of Eodwulf’s people in disguise, setting up for whatever the rogue mage had planned.

“Maybe go out with disguises for most of us?” Beau suggested.

“Ah, that-“ Caleb began, looking down as they turned their gazes on him. His voice shook slightly as he continued. “A disguise spell, ah, might n-not be... They were, ah, c-casting a detect magic at the gates. The, ah, the spell would reveal any magical means of disguise.”

“Okay, so we should maybe avoid that.” Beau agreed easily, almost nodding to herself as the tension eased from the mage’s shoulders. He was clearly uneasy contradicting any of their suggestions. “Or at least steer clear of any mages or guards if we go down that road.”

“Where should we go first?” Jester asked the most obvious next question.

“Halls of Erudition or the Cobalt Soul?” Nott added from beside the cleric. “Or do we see what’s the word on the streets?”

“We could always split up? Some of us go to the library, others ask around town?” Molly offered, dubious and reluctant. “Hit up the Assembly library first thing tomorrow, Cobalt Soul day after?”

“We need Caleb to get us into the Erudition archives, and Beau for the Cobalt Soul.” Fjord mused, rubbing his chin. “And anyone out chatting up the locals will either need to be human or in disguise. Caduceus might be okay, but… the rest of us…”

“I doubt the rest of Zadash will be any more welcoming than the townsfolk downstairs.” Caduceus stated evenly.

“We could split into two groups, but we’d have to be careful.” Fjord said with a nod of agreement toward Caduceus.

“We’d get more research done if we all go though.” Nott stated, eyes watching Caleb. She’d noticed the mage deflating at the suggestion they split the group. “I say we all stay together.”

“Ya, ya, it is safer that way too. For sure.” Jester added, following Nott’s gaze.

Caleb looked up at the noise of agreement from the others, eyes drifting to land on Beauregard. “Yes, if, ah, if it will help, I do know a spell that will allow me to read and understand any language. Should there, ah, be any books that require it?”

Beau choked on a laugh, covering it with a scoff as she looked away.

Molly’s lip curled in an almost smile watching Caleb. Did he even know the puppy expression he was putting on right now? He could get away with anything with eyes like those. The mage had seemed almost disappointed at the suggestion they split the group, which Molly didn’t think had anything to do with the dangers of the city. Offering to translate any books confirmed those suspicious, especially when he remembered the meticulous way Caleb had stacked his spellbooks at the bathhouse in Nicodranas.

“I’ll make sure to give you all the interesting one’s I find.” Molly said, quirking a smile when Caleb’s attention turned his way. There was definitely a spark of hope and contained excitement in those blue eyes. How adorable.

“You nerds and your books.” Beau huffed, some amusement in her tone.

“So says the one who knows most about the Empire’s history.” Jester teased, grinning and hopping to her feet.

And just like that, the tense discussion ended. The rest of them filed out one by one, finding their way to their own rooms, the sounds of Jester and Beau bickering and joking following them out.

~~

The following morning held little fanfare. The Nine arose late in the morning, found some breakfast at the near empty tavern on the first floor, and set out towards the Tri-Spire and the Hall of Erudition as had been the plan from the previous evening. Caleb’s warned them of the enchanted entrance of the area before they left, so none of them attempted to disguise themselves for this little foray into the city.

Like the entrance to Zadash, the guard at the entrance to the inner city was doubled as well; four standing watch with golden armor, spears, and shields. Beauregard grimaced, taking the lead once more as she approached, Caleb in step beside her. They group had not gotten thirty feet towards the entrance when the guards moved to intercept them.

Two of the guard held their spears half in a defensive posture, the other two leaving them in favor of placing a hand on their swords as the came forward.

“Halt. What’s your business here.” One of them demanded, gaze flickering between Beau and Caleb. The others glared at the rest of the group.

“On official business for the crown.” Beau said evenly, showing them the Dwendalian symbol from the king. “We’ll be going to the Hall of Erudition.”

He studied the medallion for a long moment, eyes shifting across the group. He grimaced, but waved the other guards back, giving a grunt and nodding toward the entrance to the Tri-Spires.

Caleb took the lead at Beauregard’s silent direction, uneasy with the feeling and anxious he would make some mistake. Beauregard walked at his right, not quite following, which eased some of the anxiety. He was familiar with he path, though it had been some time since he had visited Zadash.

Still, the large tower in the distance was a familiar sight to Caleb, a monument of ivory and marble, sleek against the cloudy sky. It made navigating an easy task. The group garnered a lot of looks from the residents of the upper class, most avoiding them completely. A couple of guards followed them for a time, though with Beau’s medallion hanging in obvious display, they did not move toward them.

Soon enough, they approached the campus of the Academy. Trees and hedges grew on the perimeter of the grounds, blocking what Caleb knew were cobblestone walkways leading winding paths through the courtyards. At the entrance to the campus of the Hall of Erudition stood two more crowns guard, less ornately dressed than the others, but guards none the less.

They said nothing as the group entered, simply watching as the Mighty Nine followed the cobblestone pathway towards the center of the grounds. Caleb led them toward the main entrance to the Academy archives; a heavy staircase twenty feet wide, slowly tapering until it came to an arched double doorway.

Caleb hesitated, step slowing until he came to a halt at the bottom of the steps. Beauregard glanced towards him, she and the others stopping as well.

“What’s up?” Beau asked, brow furrowing as she instinctively scanned the area for a threat.

“There are guards at the door.” Caleb pointed out, tone wary.

“Are there not usually?”

“No.” Caleb replied, shaking his head once.

“Huh.” Beauregard grunted, watching the two stationed at the doors with a guarded expression. “You good to talk to em?”

“Yes, Beauregard.” Caleb answered in agreement, moving forward once more and ascending the steps.

The guards moved forward to meet them at the top of the stairs, one holding out a hand in wordless order for them to stop. The guard glanced at the monk, then the others behind her, before landing on Caleb. “You a student here?”

“No, we are here to speak with Master Oremid Hass, as well as access the arch-“

The guard interrupted Caleb abruptly. “No one is allowed in except for students. You’ll need to leave.”

Caleb paused, brow furrowing as he tried again. “If you will inform Master Oremid that-“

“I don’t care who you are, what you want here. Order’s from the King, no one that isn’t a student gets access.” The guard interrupted again, shaking their head. “You’ll need to leave.”

Caleb looked to Beauregard, following the monk as she shrugged and turned to head back down the stairway. The group came to stop some twenty feet away, standing on the white stone walkway in the empty courtyard.

“Okay, that didn’t go as planned.” Molly commented, arms folded as his tail twitched in agitation.

“I am s-“ Caleb began, though Beauregard cut of the apology with a waved hand.

“Something’s up, has to be. They’re not even taking messages for the head wizard guy. Caleb, can you message him? See if he can come down and talk to us?” Beau said. The monk was clearly suspicious, frowning as she turned her gaze toward the tall tower.

“Yes, Beauregard. Of course.” Caleb agreed quickly, reaching to take out the required components. He spoke the incantations, lifting the copper wire to his lips. He paused, brow furrowing as he tilted his head and lowered the wire a moment later. “The spell did not work…”

“What does that mean?” Fjord asked.

“Either Oremid Hass is not on this plane, is warded within the tower, or is no longer alive.” Caleb explained carefully.

“If he was dead, surely we’d have heard about that.” Molly guessed hopefully. “Mage in charge of teaching other mages, not going to just disappear without someone knowing.”

“Well, we’re not getting in that way.” Beau muttered, jerking her thumb toward the main entrance. “Not without a fight. And something tells me there will be guards at any other door too.”

“Ah, I may-“ Caleb began, stopping and taking an unsteady breath before trying again. “If I may, I could, ah, I could summon Frumpkin? He would be able to get in and find Oremid Hass if he is within. Oremid will know Frumpkin and may pass information through him.”

“Because you said you could see and hear through Frumpkin?” Yasha asked.

“Ja, ah, yes.” Caleb replied. “I will not be able to see or hear anything, ah, here while I do so.”

“Can’t hurt to try.” Fjord agreed.

Permission given, Caleb snapped his fingers and Frumpkin appeared on the ground in the center of them. It took no effort to join his senses to the fey cat, vision blurring for a moment before he was suddenly looking up at his own face, his normally blue eyes glowing with arcane energy.

It had been a very long time since he had viewed the world through Frumpkin’s eyes. The last time he had been permitted to do so had been during the war. And then it had been from the sky, viewing the position of the opposing forces.

_Find Oremid Hass._ He silently directed Frumpkin.

He was not prepared for the sudden rush of fear and anxiety when his sense of sight and hearing moved further away from the Mighty Nine. He could still feel his own body, knew the others stood close around him. Not seeing, but knowing they were _right there_ was nerve wracking, the sensation somehow different than the normal anxiety being in their presence. He could not see their expressions, could not anticipate what they would do.

He flinched feeling a hand upon his shoulder, holding his breath as he waited for the fingers to dig in, for pain to flare across his cheek. What had he done wrong, had they changed their mind? Even Frumpkin’s quick pawsteps slowed, ears canting back in the direction of the wizard’s body. Caleb maintained the connection, knowing better than to fail at something so simple. No pain followed, only a guiding pressure. His feet followed when a clawed hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging gently and leading his body off the cobblestone onto soft grass.

Of course. He breathed again, sinking to the ground when directed and refocusing on the task at hand. Frumpkin had continued his way, circling around the white stone building until he reached an open window. With the grace only a cat possessed, he leapt up onto the thin sill, squeezing through the opening to drop onto the darker stone interior.

Caleb knew the way, so did Frumpkin. Tail held aloft, the cat padded assuredly down the corridor, ducking into shadowy corners whenever footsteps approached. A few students passed by a couple of times, and once a crowns guard in dull silver armor. Frumpkin avoided them all, weaving his way through the halls until he reached a simple wooden door.

The cat stood upon its back legs, placing his front paws on the door and scratching a few times with a loud meow. Frumpkin settled back, sitting with his tail curled around him over his paws as he waited.

After a few moments, the heavy door swung open slowly, revealing the form of Oremid Hass as the earth genasi looked out across the hall.

Stocky and squat, the mage had dark ruddy brown skin with a unique texture. His curled black hair was cut short, square jaw clenched unusually tight. The red and grey robes billowed about him with a fine cloud of dust as he held the door open, glancing down at the cat sitting in front of him.

Oremid’s face softened as he crouched down to offer his hand. Frumpkin meowed again, putting a paw on his hand. Oremid smiled, patented inset dimple wrinkle and grey teeth showing at the expression of delight. He pet Frumpkin’s head for a moment, the paused as he recognized the fey animal.

“Caleb?” Oremid questioned, picking the cat up and entering his office, door closing behind him. He smiled at the responding purr from Frumpkin, unable to keep himself from scratching the cat under the chin.

“I did wonder… You have missed Trent by over a week I’m afraid. I must also apologize; I presume you were denied entrance.”

He set Frumpkin upon the desk, before taking a seat himself. His usual excitement for seeing Frumpkin faded quickly, a weary tiredness clinging to him. “I’m sure you have questions, though unfortunately we will be unable to speak face to face. The King has barred entrance into the Halls of Erudition save for students, staff, and of course his crownsguard.”

Oremid shook his head, grimacing briefly before continuing. “Trent arrived the day after the attack at the Tri-Spires, which I’m sure you’ve heard of by now. He believes Dunamancy to be the magic used, and the guard has been strict ever since. I know little else; I have not been in favor at either the Cerberus Assembly nor the Crown for some time, no one tells me anything.”

There was a knock on the door, a feminine voice calling Oremid’s name.

“Duty calls.” Oremid sighed, petting Frumpkin once more before waving a hand. The door opened to admit a young human woman wearing Assembly student robes. Knowing there was little else to learn, Caleb let his senses return to his own body, clicking his fingers as he did so, Frumpkin vanishing from Oremid’s desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Oremid Hass is a little OOC…. It’s because I don’t really know how to write him… I barely remember him from CR at all to be honest… Just that he loved Frumpkin (come on, who doesn't)


	38. Chapter 38

Caleb was tense the entire time he spoke, hands sometimes tightening in what Beau suspected was an attempt to keep them from shaking. She sat cross-legged on the ground next to him, letting their shoulders touch in silent support; letting him know she were still there and listening. Yasha stood leaning slightly against the tree they sat under, eyes ever watchful on the empty grounds around them, while Molly ripped leaves into pieces.

Caleb hadn’t fully relaxed after they’d had to move off the pathway, finding a shaded spot under one of the trees off the path. Beauregard had mentally kicked herself for not thinking to find somewhere out of the way _before_ he’d jumped into the cat and wandered off. He was blind and deaf to them, of course touching him was going to make him jumpy, no matter how necessary it had been.

Thankfully it didn’t take too long for him to find who he was looking for, though Beau was a little disappointed at how little he was told. A few moments after Caleb fell quiet, his eyes closed. When they opened again, the glow was gone; his normal wary blue gaze flickering between them.

“Nott and Fjord went to see if they could find any stray students to talk to.” Beau offered, seeing Caleb’s brow furrowing slightly as he noticed their absence. “They can both disguise themselves and are pretty good at slipping away if things go sideways.”

The monk stood, offering a hand and pulling Caleb to his feet as well. “We’ll fill them in on what they missed later. Sounds like we should probably get outta here though. C’mon. They know to meet us outside the grounds if we’re gone when they get back.”

Caleb nodded, following Beau as she led the way toward the main area of the Tri-Spires. Mollymauk and Jester walked on either side of him, Yasha following behind, while Caduceus kept pace beside Beauregard. It was an odd sort of escort, one that made little sense to Caleb, though he did not question it.

The guards at the campus entrance watched them as they left though, again, did not approach or speak to them. Whether they noticed they were leaving with two fewer or not was anyone’s guess. Whatever their reason for standing guard, it wasn’t to keep people out or keep track of who exited.

Beau didn’t stop outside the campus, instead continuing south toward the entrance to the Tri-Spires. Leaving the district was simple, though the guards gave them dirty looks as they watched them pass. The tension in the group eased as they moved toward the center of the city, leaving the upper echelon guards behind them. The tight formation loosened, Yasha coming to walk alongside Mollymauk as they all headed toward the Pentamarket.

The street curved, splitting into three paths. They followed the center, leading them toward the sound of merchants and shoppers. The quiet atmosphere of the prior evening had not carried over into today. The open market bazaar remained as it ever had; carts, tents, and building set up and open with barkers peddling their wares to any who so much as glanced their way. It was familiar, it was normal, and Molly wanted to just breath it in.

Jester looped an arm into Caleb’s, the group drifting a little further apart as they weaved their way through the open market, trying to be inconspicuous. There weren’t many people as vibrantly colored as Jester and Mollymauk, but the Tieflings managed to go unnoticed and undisturbed anyway.

Eventually, Beau led them to the opening of a side street empty of vendors or much foot traffic. The sounds of the market were enough to discourage eavesdroppers, the patrolling guards more focused on keeping the peace and watching for thieves than to bother paying attention to them. One by one, or two’s in the case of Jester and Caleb, the rest of them joined her until they waited only for Fjord and Nott to find them.

“Okay, so that was a great big giant bust.” Beau sighed after several minutes of silently watching the crowd, crossing her arms and shifting her weigh. She narrowed her eyes at Caleb, cutting him off before he could even form the apology she just _knew_ he was about to give. “Not your fault. And we did learn something. Just not what we’d meant to.”

“They’re not letting anyone into the Hall of Erudition, King’s orders. Oremid couldn’t come down to talk to you, which is what it sounded like, and your spell didn’t work trying to contact him. I have to wonder if they’re not letting anyone out either?” Molly questioned, glancing at Caleb.

“It is… possible. Oremid is a powerful mage, yet…” Caleb explained uneasily.

“They don’t trust him. Why though?” Jester finished for him, tapping one finger on her chin as she tilted her head asking the question.

“He is, ah, not h-human.” Caleb explained, cringing slightly. He did not want to give offense, the majority of the Mighty Nine were not human and had presumably faced their own share of discrimination within the Empire. As well, he still clearly remembered Beau’s anger when she had berated him for ‘prejudice minded bullshit.’ Whether they had rules for him or not, this point undoubtedly remained the same; as well as the implied consequences.

“T-that is, ah, what- what Master Ikithon w-would most often s-speak of.” He stumbled to explain, accent thick as he near choked on the fear gripping his throat. He held back a flinch as Beauregard scoffed, folding his hands obediently behind him as he stared at the ground nervously, waiting. Molly did not want him to be afraid, but he was, again, failing.

He managed to remain still and silent as Jester sidled up beside him, reaching out slowly to tug gently at the sleeve of his coat. “It’s okay, Caleb. We know you don’t think that way.”

“T-thank you, Jester.” Caleb said quietly, glancing warily at Beau who was looking off in the distance. The ball of anxiety loosened in his stomach when she made no move to correct him for his comments. He looked in Molly’s direction as the other Tiefling shifted closer as well, Yasha still standing watch across the marketplace.

“Really, it’s fine.” Molly said, keeping his tone gently and his voice low. “No one’s mad or blaming you or-“

“Down the alley. No one can see us there.” Beau spoke suddenly, headed further down the side road with a short beckoning wave to the others.

Molly frowned as Caleb’s shoulders tensed, the mage ducking his head as he followed the monk. The blood hunter walked beside Caleb, putting on a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. It’s probably just Fjord and Nott. Nott must have messaged her asking where to meet us.”

At least that had _better_ be the explanation. If not, he would be having words with Beau about scaring Caleb for no reason. Molly didn’t care that Beau had no idea moving to a more private area was an issue for Caleb, especially when the mage got it in his head that he’d done something wrong.

They were about halfway down the alley when Fjord and Nott appeared on the other end; Nott in her halfling shape and Fjord looking more or less the same, just not green. “See, told you.” Molly whispered to Caleb, carefully nudging the wizard’s side with an elbow. Caleb didn’t flinch or move away, but the slight intake of breath and nervous glance wasn’t exactly reassuring to Molly.

Beau ducked into a little alcove; a tattered awning overhead provided shade to a variety of empty crates. The boxes were in various states of brokenness, the area likely a disused storage for one of the shops in the market.

“You guys learn anything?” Beau asked, nodding her head in greeting as Fjord and Nott joined them.

“Yeah. Apparently, some of the students got an early graduation.” Fjord began.

“They’re the ones we saw at the south gates yesterday.” Nott added.

“Supposedly they’re staying on the other side of the city, near the west gates when they’re off duty.” Fjord continued. “I’m thinking, hoping really, some of them might be a little willing to talk to us. Most of the academy students didn’t seem to happy, they might not be either.”

“Should we save the library for another day? Talk to the mages first?” Beau asked.

“Maybe.” Fjord hedged, unsure. “What did Oremid say?”

“Not much.” Beau answered, glancing over at Caleb. He wasn’t quite looking at any of them, so she explained in his place. “Basically, Trent came by bout a week or so ago, right after the attack at the Tri-Spires. Sounded like he was trying to point fingers at Xhorhas, said it was Duna-whatever magic.”

“Dunamancy, Beau. It’s not that hard.” Molly sighed, shaking his head.

“Right, whatever. Anyway, crowns guard are there by the King’s orders. No one but staff, students, and guards get in. Not sure who’s allowed to leave, but not Oremid since he basically said as much.” Beau finished, shifting her stance to lean toward Caleb to catch the wizard’s attention as she added. “I miss anything?”

“Ah, n-no. That is ah, that is the gist of it.” Caleb agreed, glancing up to meet her gaze briefly. He then turned to look at Fjord, speaking again hesitantly. “Ah, I should- t-the… s-students do not normally, ah, graduate here.”

Caleb took a slow breath, looking down again as he schooled his tone, focusing on speaking evenly. He wasn’t supposed to be afraid. Master Trent’s disappointed scalding tone flashed in his memory, _weakness is not tolerated, boy_. They had a mission to complete, this was like the many times he had reported to Master Ikithon.

“After they complete the- their studies at the Hall of Erudition, they are sent to Rexxentrum for additional training before they graduate.” Caleb explained, keeping the tremble out of his voice even as he stumbled over the words briefly. “Only when they have completed that training is the graduation ceremony done, the student given Assembly robes and accepted as a full member.”

“So they don’t usually toss em straight into serving with the guard.” Fjord sighed. “Wonder why the sudden change…”

“Maybe Dairon will know?” Jester said hopefully, voice lilting the words into a question.

“Do you think the Valley Archives will have the same kind of restrictions? Guards keeping people out?” Nott asked.

Beauregard shook her head. “Not likely. It’s possibly, but I don’t see it actually happening. Obviously, the King’s got a control problem when it comes to the Assembly and mages. But the Cobalt Soul’s never had that kind of attention turned its way.”

“Why don’t you all go to the archives.” Fjord suggested. “Nott and I will follow up on what we heard, get some shopping done, and we’ll meet back at the inn later this evening?”

“Are you sure?” Yasha asked quietly, voice concerned. “Just the two of you?”

“We’ll draw less attention this way.” Fjord explained, glancing over at Nott who nodded agreement. “We’ll both be in disguise and we’ll keep away from the mages. And it might help you guys, having less of a large group. Might arouse less suspicion.”

“Why don’t I tag along, from a distance, to keep an eye out.” Caduceus suggested.

“That’s a pretty good idea.” Jester agreed, nodding emphatically.

“Hmm.” Nott intoned, eyes squinting at Fjord. “You’re right. It is. Fjord has a nasty habit of touching things and getting into trouble.”

Fjord rolled his eyes. “One time… it was _one_ time…”

“Yash, you on library detail or babysitting?” Beau asked, looking over at the taller woman, smirking at the indignant noise from Fjord at the statement.

“I will go with all of you.” Yasha told her, not moving from her position beside Mollymauk.

“Okay, we’ll be a while, but we’ll be back at the tavern by dark, sound good?” Beau asked, glancing around them all for nods of agreement before turning to head toward the Valley Archives of the Cobalt Soul. “Alright, let’s go.”


	39. Chapter 39

Beauregard led them west through the Pentamarket, weaving around shoppers and vendors, stopping to pull Jester away from a cart of pastries, and avoiding guards when she saw them. As the ruckus of the bazaar market faded behind them, she slowed and glanced around at them. “Okay, so, let’s all just remember; you can read whatever you want, take notes, but you can’t take books out. Thanks to me, there’s no off limit areas. Jester, please don’t draw on the books, I’m not the only one going to be around keeping an eye on people.”

“Fiiiiine.” Jester sighed, giggling when Beau scowled at her.

The tall, tapering tower came into view first, the three smaller spires that flanked it soon peeking into sight. The smooth, concrete texture of the stonework reflecting the late morning sunlight, revealing intricate carvings that spiraled down the tower. There were crowns guard present here, though only two that appeared to be patrolling the general area at random.  
It wasn’t until they walked within the Valley Archives, until Caleb looked up and up, at the rows of books along the walls, that he truly believed he would be allowed here. So many times, the Nine had nearly changed their minds of the decision to come here or include him in the visit.

He didn’t care that the some of the monks glared at him, didn’t care that he needed to follow all of the rules here. These were books he had never seen before, had never read before. And would likely never be given this opportunity again.

His heart raced with excitement instead of fear, his hands itching to reach out and touch the bindings; to flip the pages and soak up what lay within. He remained where he stood, letting only his gaze touch the books. There were rules here, he knew his place. He would read what they gave him, he would not wander from the group, he would not touch anything without permission.

He would have books to read and he was dangerously close to being excited and happy, and he should not, but… They were allowing him here, to read books, to learn about something new without any stipulations.

“I guess it is pretty impressive. If you like reading.” Molly commented, trying his best not to chuckle. Caleb was looking like his birthday had come early and he’d been presented with a dragon hoarde of treasure rather than a room full of dusty old books. To each their own, it was just good to see Caleb’s expression not marred by the ever-present cloud of wary fear.

“Beau’s got to check in first, then you can read whatever want.” Jester whispered, sneaking up beside Molly and throwing an arm around him, smiling happily. If books made Caleb happy, she would be very good and not draw on any of them, just this once.

“Just don’t forget we’re supposed to be looking for something.” Molly told them both, keeping his tone gentle. He needn’t have bothered to worry.

“Ja, na sicher.” Caleb muttered in reply, not even looking at them. The wizard just stared toward the interior of the archive, gaze slowly moving across the shelves within.

Molly grinned, having no idea what Caleb had said but he could guess it was agreement judging by the tone. He pulled his attention from the eager looking mage to Beau who was speaking with one of the other monks at the front desk. The visitor before them was now following another monk towards the stacks of books, giving way for the five of them to sign in at the desk.

“Is Dairon here?” Beau was asking, one hand on her hip as she frowned at the short, balding man behind the desk. She didn’t recognize him, but she could tell by the look on his face he knew who she was.

“I’m sure I can locate her for you, Expositor Beauregard.” He said in a neutral tone, eyes skimming over the others.

“Oh, yeah, we’re also trying to find some information on some symbol…” Beau glanced over to Jester as she trailed off.

“Oh! Yes! Here you are Beau.” Jester chirped, letting go of Molly and moving toward the monks. She pulled out the drawings of Eodwulf’s symbol out and handed them to Beau.

Beau unfolded the paper, showing it to the monk. “Seen it before?”

“I have not.” He answered after a brief glance at the image. “Of course, you are welcome to use the archive. Archivist Erran will observe your companions when Expositor Diaron is ready for you.”

“Yeah, sure.” Beau agreed, already walking past him toward the main section of the archives. She knew the drill; they wouldn’t leave anyone alone with the books. That was fine, she’d warned them that would be the case before hand. They were still being watched from further away, but her rank as Expositor was enough none of them scrutinized too closely.

Beau led them toward the section she thought might be most helpful in their search, heading over to one of the shelves and running a hand along the spines of the books. She grabbed a few of them here and there gathering a stack and dumping them on a nearby table. Jester and Molly were doing much the same.

“Hey, Caleb. Here.” Beau called quietly to the mage, one eyebrow lifting as his attention barely landed on her before redirecting to the books. “You see anything you want, you should be fine grabbing it so long as I’m here, just… be careful.”

He nodded, moving a half step forward before visibly catching himself and glancing up to meet her gaze. “I will be very careful and stay with the others.” He recited the previous agreement, tone light and eager.

Beau snorted, pushing a couple of the books his way before claiming a seat at the end of the table and flipping open a book herself. The mage didn’t spare her a second glance, simply sat in the closest chair and opened the book to start reading.

~~

Jester was getting bored. Scratch that, she had _been_ bored for probably an hour now. She’d flipped through four or five books by this point; the last one she hadn’t even read anything, just turned the pages and let the words turn blurry as she stared. She let out a low sigh, gaze drifting across the rest of the group.

Yasha wasn’t reading anything; she seemed content to find books and bring them to Caleb. Jester had even seen the mage smile a little when Yasha handed them to him. The rest of the time she stood either watching Caleb or watching the other visitors and monks at the archive when they wandered too close.

Beau was half hidden behind a little stack of books on the table, but when Jester carefully circled around, Beau wasn’t reading anything either. The monk was slumped over the table with her arms as pillows, mouth half hanging open in sleep. Clearly, she had been bored too. Jester was tempted to some sort of mischief but managed to suppress the urge. She sent a silent apology to the Traveler, but drawing dicks would have to wait until another time. She had promised after all.

Molly was flipping lazily through a book, which was good because at least someone else was helping out instead of making Caleb do all the work. The wizard had three books opened in front of him, going back and forth between them.

Jester tilted her head, smiling as she cheerfully made her way over and sat down on the other side of Caleb. Molly looked up at her as she came over, so she gave him a smile too, then turned her attention to Caleb. “Did you find anything interesting?”

“Hallo Jester.” Caleb greeted her with a thick accent, glancing up at her briefly with a half-smile. “Ja, I have. It is- ah, most is not what we were looking for but, it is interesting. Here though, this...” Caleb paused, flipping through one of the books and sliding it closer to Jester, “this mentions a military group symbolized by two crossed blades. These other two have references to that group and references to the evolution of the iconography.”

“Wow, Caleb, you’re really good at this.” Jester praised, nodding her head.

Caleb blushed, looking back down at the book. “Ah, Yasha is the one who selected the books.”

“Hey, I brought you some fun looking ones.” Molly objected with a soft teasing tone, looking up from where he hadn’t at _all_ been reading his book.

“But he found it in _this_ one.” Jester snickered, tapping the indicated book with one finger.

“Well, I brought him this one.” Molly retorted, stretching out his hand to tap one of the other books. “And it has _references_.

Jester wanted to jump with glee when Caleb chuckled, even if the wizard flushed and looked back down at the books an instant later. He had laughed! He was (at least a little) happy!

“What about-“

“Expositor Beauregard.”

The dry tone of the balding monk from earlier interrupted their conversation, Beau jerking upright from behind her stack of books. She sniffed, leaning back casually in her chair as she tried to pretend she hadn’t been asleep at all. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Expositor Dairon is here if you still wished to speak with her.” He stated blandly. “If you would follow me.”

“Sure.” Beau replied, getting to her feet. She paused to give the monk beside baldy a once over, eyeing him up and down for a moment. She shrugged, following the other monk as he led her towards the staircase leading up.

She couldn’t help but wonder just what had taken Dairon so long. It had been hours, Beau’d normally have been told Dairon was unavailable and to come back some other time at this point. If it hadn’t been for the research, Beau would have probably tried to convince the others to give it up for the day.

It was strange. Just one more strangeness to a city full of strange things going on. Crowns guard practically holding the academy hostage, refugees where there shouldn’t be any, curfew in effect, attacks on the Lawmaster. There were too many questions, too much going on, and more that Beau knew she just didn’t know about yet. Beau paused partially up the winding staircase, glancing back at the rest of the group.

Jester had left Caleb back to his books, the cleric now circling a slow path around the general area and presumably looking for anything worthwhile. Molly was once again flipping through his own tome, leaning with his cheek resting on one palm. Yasha had moved closer now that the new monk was observing them, eyes never leaving his form.

Beauregard shook her head, turning to continue following the monk to the second floor. Soon the stairway wrapped around a bookshelf, blocking the other four from sight. They would be fine. She would find Dairon, talk to her, get back to the group. There was nothing to be worried about…

The balding monk led Beau toward one of the meeting rooms, coming to a stop outside the closed door. He gave a short nod, then turned and walked away. Beau rolled her shoulders, let out a low breath, and entered through the wooden doorway.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... feel just a *tiny* bit bad about this chapter. 
> 
> But I love it anyway and I can't wait to post it so.... 
> 
> Here it is.

The interior of the room was of moderate size. On the far side stood two bookshelves filled with books, a few vials of potions, and other odds and ends. A tapestry with Ioun’s symbol filled the blank space of the empty wall, a desk and two chairs occupying the opposite wall. Behind the desk sat a dark-skinned elf, hair shaved bald, bent writing carefully on a parchment.

She wore the colors of the Cobalt Soul as the other monks did; though her outfit differed with the spiked bracers on her forearms, her clothing cut for movement rather than the robes of many Archivists. Whatever had taken her so many hours, it hadn’t been siting here in meetings.

“You don’t normally keep me waiting this long.” Beau commented, heading over and sprawling comfortably in the chair. “Training new blood or just getting into trouble?”

“I thought a practice in patience would do you good.”

Beau scoffed, half grinning. “Yeah, right.”

“I had my own business to attend to. Things are complicated here in Zadash, as I am sure you are aware.” Dairon replied, folding the parchment and tucking it into her robes. She sighed, leaning back as she met Beauregard’s gaze. “I presume that is why you have sought me out this time?”

“Well. We did need to use the archives, but, basically. Yes.” Beau shrugged, straightening up in the chair and leaning forward. “What the hell is going on out there? Wars over, but we still got refugees coming in, guards patrolling the streets, mages at the gate?”

“The Lawmaster was attacked and it deeply upset most of the upper-class citizens.” Dairon told her. The elven monk leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk, a near mirror pose to Beau. “Blame is not being put on any one peoples, but there has been an insinuation it is agents from Xhorhas taking advantage of our bid for peace. The mages at the gates are to ensure no one enters under magical disguise, as it was implied that is how the attack was done. Never mind the enchantments at the Tri-Spires..."

Dairon drew in a long breath, betraying the stress and frustration she felt. Beau furrowed her brow, unable to remember ever having seen Dairon even slightly off balance. Shaking her head, Dairon continued. 

"Tension between the Cobalt Soul and the Assembly rises by the day, even here in Zadash where common ground is easiest to find. The Headmaster’s absence does not help with the situation. Curator Yudala has tried to reassure King Dwendal the Dynasty wishes peace just as much as we do, but has most recently been denied any audience with him.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Beau frowned.

“It is not.” Dairon agreed wearily.

“Why would the Dynasty go after a Lawmaster. In the grand scheme of things, not a very critical target.” Beau wondered, shaking her head. “And besides that, we’ve discovered that if anyone’s messing around with the peace agreement, it’s the Assembly. Or, at least one of their mages. Ever heard of Eodwulf?”

“Of course. He was one of the more powerful fighters at the height of the war. He was reported killed in a mission into enemy territory three years ago.” Dairon stated.

“Turns out, he’s not so dead. He was leading a contingent of soldiers, bout eight or so, across the border into Xhorhas. We only found him because we were trying to find out what a _different_ rogue mage was doing with a group of bandits in Gandre, near the border.” Beau reported, leaning back to see what Dairon would have to say about that.

“You stopped them, I trust?”

“Yeah, but Eodwulf magicked himself away. Then the soldier’s at Roarksguard showed up and nearly killed the new guy, so we booked it. Eodwulf did mention killing the King, or at least that he wouldn’t be King for long, so we’re guessing he’s the leader of whatever group is trying fuck things up. Which is why we’ve been here for the better part of the day, trying to see if the symbol he wore has any written information on it.”

“This complicates matters…” Dairon muttered. “As I said, Eodwulf was reported dead three years ago. There is much he could have accomplished in all this time.”

“Yeah, Caleb was surprised too.” An understatement, but Beau didn’t need to get off topic right now. “Anyway, speaking of the headmaster, we went by the Assembly’s school before coming here. We were going to search their library for some info first, talk to Oremid Hass.” Beau told her, shrugging lightly.

“Did you speak with the headmaster?”

“Not exactly.” Beau answered, shaking her head. “The guard wouldn’t let us in, and Caleb couldn’t send a message to him. Something about the spell not connecting. But he was able to verify he was still alive and found out some info. Apparently, the Halls of Erudition are off limits to anyone not a student by order of King Dwendal. Even other mages, seeing as they wouldn’t let Caleb in.”

“Caleb?”

“Yeah, he’s the archmage the king sent to us couple weeks ago now. Peace agreement and all that.”

“Widogast? Trent Ikithon’s student?” Dairon asked. She paused for a moment, head tilting in thought before asking with a careful, indecipherable tone. “Would you bring him here? Let me ask him some questions?”

“Why? What’s so important?” Beau frowned, eyeing her teacher.

“Trent is a very… difficult individual to get to know, he keeps many secrets, he has the ear of the King. He is the one who took the investigation of the attack upon himself, insinuated disguised Xhorhasian’s the responsible party. Confronting Trent is not something that can be done, and he has thus far kept his students closed off. Even during the war, their missions kept secret from all but the King. Having the opportunity to question one is not to be passed by.”

“You can _talk_ to him. _If_ he wants.” Beau corrected, brow furrowing. She wasn’t entirely sure about it, but she couldn’t really see a way to refuse. She would be right here the whole time, it would fine. “I’ll go ask him.”

“Of course.” Dairon agreed.

~~

Beau narrowed her eyes as she returned to the lower floor, frown forming at the subtle change in the others. Yasha sat beside Caleb now, creating an imposing barrier between the wizard and Archivist Erran. Molly was still on Caleb’s right side, though much closer than he had been before. Jester had apparently put herself in charge of picking out books, as she was currently browsing a shelf while throwing annoyed looks at Erran.

“Do I wanna know?” Beau asked gruffly, walking up behind them. She winced as Caleb jerked slightly, Molly deftly catching the book knocked from the table as a result. He was definitely a whole lot jumpier than when she’d left.

“No, probably not.” Molly answered, placing the book back on the table. “Erran there didn’t much care for Caleb casting his nifty language spell. But no one’s bleeding or being kicked out, so…” Molly explained with a shrugged.

“I, ah, I am sorry, I did not think to warn him.” Caleb apologized quietly.

“Done with your little chat so soon?” Molly asked Beau, fingers brushing in gentle reassurance on the mage’s wrist as he politely ignored the apology. “Figured you’d have a lot more to discuss with your old teacher about.”

“Not exactly done, no.” Beau replied, moving to the other side of Molly and hopping up to sit on the table so she could meet Caleb’s gaze. “Actually, Dairon wanted to know if you’d be okay coming up and talking with her? Your name came up when I was telling her what all we’d learned.”

“Oh.” Caleb took in a surprised breath, not expecting the question. He nodded in agreement after a moment, ignoring the rising anxiety as he stood from his chair. “Ah, yes, Beauregard.”

It would be alright, he simply had to follow the rules. Follow the rules and he would be fine. It had worked not even ten minutes ago when Erran took exception to his actions. He had not moved from the seat he had originally chosen, had stayed with the others, had not touched any books not given him, and they had dealt with explaining things to the archivist.

“You sure, Caleb?” Molly spoke lowly, red gaze fixed upon the wizard. “You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to.” Beauregard nodded in agreement. “Dairon will understand. If you do want to, I’ll be there the whole time.”

Caleb nodded, pushing away the anxiety. Molly was patient, more so than Caleb deserved. The rest of the group had been equally as patient and Caleb did not want to disappoint them. He could do this one simple thing, this one request from Beauregard.

“Yes, Mollymauk. I will… I will speak with Beauregard’s, ah, teacher.”

A frown crossed Molly’s face and Caleb worried the Tiefling was going to simply tell him not to go at all. He had done so little to please Beauregard, had offended her on multiple occasions, he needed to do this one thing.

“I-if, if I may?” Caleb added the question hesitantly, stomach twisting at the feeling of once again having to choose between which of them he obeyed.

“Of course.” Molly agreed, smiling even though Caleb could tell he was unhappy. “I’ll find you some more interesting books for when you get back, okay?”

“Ah, yes, t-thank you, Mollymauk. There are-“ He paused, nervously glancing at Beauregard, but she seemed patient enough, so he turned back to Molly. “There are, ah, references, here. Ah, for you.”

His tone lilted up at the end, making it almost a question as he slid one of the books carefully toward Mollymauk. He didn’t know how well his attempt at humor would be taken. But Molly was unhappy and that bothered him.

Molly chuckled, smile turning a little more genuine.

Caleb was still somewhat anxious as he fell in step to Beauregard’s left, slightly behind as he followed the monk. The knot in his gut tightened with every step further from the others, anxiety growing until it threatened to choke him when the bookshelves blocked them from sight. He tried his best to shove it aside, ignore the creeping fear as they ascended the staircase to the second floor. He told himself there was no reason to be anxious; the Nine’s version of talk was simply that. It would be fine.

There were fewer visitors and more Cobalt Soul members the further they walked, Caleb shifting as close to Beauregard as he dared. They would respect her, she was an expositor and he belonged to her; he would be okay, she had said so. Before long even the monks were few enough, Caleb and Beauregard walking alone in silence.

Caleb’s heart still raced, anxiety turning icy cold, but he obediently followed.

Rules. He just needed to follow the rules. Following orders superseded staying with the group, he was obeying Beauregard. He dropped his gaze, focusing on her heels as his nails dug into his palms. Beauregard required him to follow, speak with Dairon, and he would do so.

He would follow the rules and it would be okay.

The one he could only assume was Dairon stood waiting for them as they entered the room, Beauregard closing the door behind them as Caleb walked in. He dropped his gaze, folding his arms behind him and waiting as Beauregard stepped forward to speak to the dark-skinned monk.

“Dairon, Caleb. Caleb, Dairon.” She introduced, waving a hand between them.

Caleb inclined his head, giving a sort of half bow. “Beauregard said you wished to speak with me?”

“Come. Stand here.” Dairon told Caleb, indicating where she preferred him to be.

Caleb tensed briefly, heart skipping as his stomach sank. He moved further into the room silently, doing as he was told. This was familiar, these were the rules he knew. Dairon was Beauregard’s teacher, had wished to speak with him, and Beauregard had agreed. _He_ had agreed with this. He would do what it took to please Beauregard.

Beau frowned at the curt order from Dairon, unsettled and uneasy as Caleb immediately obeyed. She trusted Dairon as much as she trusted anyone, but it was disconcerting to see her so coldly ordering Caleb’s movements. She didn’t like how unquestioningly Caleb obeyed either. She’d thought they’d let him know he didn’t have to do that…

“Tell me, who are you.” Dairon asked the wizard, moving to stand a foot or so in front of him, arms crossed.

“Caleb Widogast, archmage of the Cerberus Assembly.” Caleb answered immediately, arms folded carefully behind him, eyes locked on the ground.

Beauregard frowned, pacing around Dairon as she watched the two. Dairon knew who Caleb was, she’d said his full name without Beau having to tell her it was Widogast. She didn’t need to ask and it set a bad feeling for this whole ‘talk’.

“What do you know of the plot against the King.”

“Only what has been discovered by the Mighty Nine. Eodwulf leads an unknown force, it’s implied intent to kill King Dwendal.”

Beau crossed her arms, gaze drifting between the two of them with her back to the bookshelves. Nothing she hadn’t already told Dairon, which she’d all but told Caleb she’d shared. Still weird Dairon asked, but verifying wasn’t all that strange.

“You had reported Eodwulf killed in on a mission to Xhorhas three years ago. Was that report ordered by Trent Ikithon.”

“No, I believed him to have died. The report was my own.”

Some of the tension eased out of Beau. Dairon didn’t trust Trent either then, though Beau would prefer she didn’t ask questions like it was demand.

“The King holds a banquet in near two weeks. Trent has been moving in the shadows. What is he doing?”

Caleb reacted to that question, a bare flicker of his gaze upward before he retrained it on the ground. “I do not know.”

Dairon moved quickly, silently striking without warning. She held back on her blows, though they were still painful enough, more focused on using her ki to determine and force the truth from Caleb’s words. Her first blow struck his sternum, driving the breath from him. She kept him upright by grabbing his shirt in her other hand, fist twisting to grip the fabric as she struck a quick blow across his face.

Dairon released the mage as she pulled back, letting the man stumble a step sideways off balance. She let out a slow breath as she read the feeling of the ki she had released in the punches.

“Hey, what the hell Dairon!” Beauregard objected, taking a step forward. Guilt burned at her. Not even one round with Dairon and Caleb was breathing heavily, one lip split with blood, but he still straightened and returned to the original position he’d been standing. The wizard was trembling, eyes downcast, but leaving himself as unguarded as before.

“What. Is he doing.” Dairon demanded of the archmage again, holding up a hand towards Beauregard as warning not to interfere.

Caleb’s breath was shaky, the mage taking in and releasing a few breaths before he spoke, tone subdued.

“He wishes the Mighty Nine in Rexxentrum in two weeks time.”


	41. Chapter 41

It was plain for Dairon to see Beau hadn’t known that bit of information, all but confirming the elf’s suspicions of their new mage. Dairon dropped her hand, turning her full attention back to Caleb.

Beauregard could only stare in shocked surprise at the mage, rooted in place. Caleb had lied. Trent wanted them in Rexxentrum, how long had _that_ been the plan? It definitely wasn’t a coincidence that it was just in time for some big celebration and it wasn’t because their invite had gotten lost in the mail. Fuck, she _never_ should have trusted him.

“Why.” Dairon’s questioned, the word a harsh demand.

No. No, if he really wanted them in Rexxentrum, he’d had his chance after Roarksguard. But he’d brought them to Nicodranas. She clearly remembered the stark panic in his eyes looking at her as he’d explained where he’d brought them.

“I do not know.”

Caleb’s response brought Beau’s attention back on the two of them. She could guess what Dairon’s reaction to that answer would be once again (she wasn’t sure if Caleb was lying again or not either) but the hell if she were going to let this interrogation continue. Maybe the whole Nicadranas instead of Rexxentrum thing was just a timing issue, and maybe he really did have an ulterior motive… but just because he knew what Trent wanted didn’t mean he was guilty. That was too many maybes, there had to be some explanation.

“That’s _enough_ , Dairon.” Beau warned, voice low and near vibrating with anger.

Dairon glanced over at Beau, lifting one eyebrow but stepping back from the mage. She turned a narrow-eyed look at Caleb, ordering him curtly. “Go wait outside.”

Caleb didn’t move; remaining in place with his arms behind him, eyes fixed on the floor. His shoulders trembled with the tension in his muscles, breath sharp quick things.

“Go wait outside.” Dairon repeated the order.

Beau ground her teeth in an attempt not to let the growing fury into her expression when Caleb flinched. The movement was small, enough she could tell he was forcing himself to be still. She hated this, she fucking hated that he was waiting for her _permission_.

She’d brought him here and, while didn’t particularly want to give orders, she’d be damned if she was going to let Dairon hit him again. Besides, Beau didn’t need Caleb around for this argument. She would sort out what he had said later, with the rest of the group. “Go, Caleb.”

Caleb bowed slightly to them both, then obeyed without a word. Beau watched him go, turning her glare back at Dairon as the door shut behind the wizard.

“You have been away from the capital for some time, Beauregard. And you paid little attention to the politics while you were there.” Dairon stated calmly.

As if she hadn’t just ruined every bit of progress they’d made. If that progress even meant anything… what else had Caleb lied about? Beau shoved that thought away, hating it was even a possibility.

“You were just going to _talk_ to him.” Beau snapped, glaring at the other monk.

“It was necessary.” Dairon’s tone was even as she turned to fully face Beauregard. “Any insight to Trent’s plans and actions are crucial.”

“I told him you wanted to talk to him, not that you were gonna beat answers out of him.” Beau ground out. “He would have answered you without it.”

“Would he have told you Trent is leading you to Rexxentrum, on the very day of the King’s celebration?” Diaron pointed out. “He did not want to reveal that information, would not have given it without motivation. His first response was a lie, or have you forgotten.”

“That’s not fucking motivation, that’s torture.” Beau argued, ignoring the reminder.

“It was necessary.” Dairon replied bluntly. “Things are changing within the Empire, Beauregard. Prejudice has been too commonly accepted for too long, and not only against those not human. Purists begin to find themselves in the minority, but still they cling to power. Even some of our own. Expositors are charged to find corruption, root it out, not ensure its survival. This system is perverted, eating away at itself in a tangled web. Finding those to trust is not easy.”

“What, so this was some kind of test?” Beau growled, temper rising.

“Trent instills absolute obedience in his students. He holds power in the Assembly and even at court.” Dairon told her. “You and your ‘Mighty Nine’ have bonded together from a mix of backgrounds with the goal of peace. Trent put Caleb in your midst like a snake in the grass. He is not to be trusted. He would have led you unawares into Ikithon’s schemes.”

“Caleb said Trent wanted us in Rexxentrum, not that he was supposed to be the one leading us there.” Beau snapped defensively.

“How do you think he knew of Trent’s wishes? Of his timing? There is no easier path of communication than between two mages.” Dairon shook her head. “You cannot trust him, Beauregard. He is Trent’s pawn in a game he likely does not know the full scope of. Or worse, does and is Ikithon’s ally.”

“So you want me to treat him like a slave, give him orders, dictate his every movement?” Beau argued, unconsciously shifting into a defensive stance. “It’s okay to treat them like shit so long as it serves our purpose?”

“Beauregard.” Dairon began with a sigh. “He is-“

Beau didn’t care how that sentence would end, her thin patience snapping. She knew she wouldn’t like it, no matter what Dairon said. As silently as the elven monk had earlier, Beau lunged forward, fist landing squarely across Dairon’s face.

Even put off balance, Dairon deftly blocked Beau’s next stride, catching her elbow before it could connect to her jaw. Beau twisted around the opposite direction, driving her elbow into Dairon’s stomach.

Dairon slipped around Beau, landing two blows rapidly underneath Beau’s ribs, driving the breath from her lungs, the last blow glancing off the side of Beau’s face. Beauregard stepped back, body seizing as she tried to draw breath back into her lungs.

Dairon followed up quickly, taking advantage of the brief moment of paralysis. A sharp uppercut forced Beau to step backward, defense broken enough that, with a spun kick, Dairon sent her sprawling across the floor. Beau’s back hit the desk, sending one of the chairs toppling over as she pushed herself upright.

She glared over at Dairon, spitting out blood as her mentor approached, no longer in a fighting stance. The elf‘s nose and lip bled, but in comparison to Beau, they could both tell who’d won this fight.

“I want you to be aware of the risk he poses.” Dairon stated, breath slightly uneven herself. “I do not say how the Empire treats those trained at the Assembly is right. But if Trent Ikithon claims the throne’s power, the war will start anew. Neither side can afford that. Even if the Empire could win, he would reignite the crusades against any of non-human blood. He would cripple the Empire.”

“Then why the fuck isn’t anyone _doing_ anything?” Beau snarled, shifting onto one knee as she glared at Dairon.

“As I have said, he has the King’s ear. Dwendal trusts him, as much as the King trusts any. Moving against him without proof is futile and deadly. Trent is careful and thorough. He wants you to be in Rexxentrum in two weeks. Whatever he has planned, it involves all of you, though I would expect your absence would not deter his plans.”

Dairon reached into her robes, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. She knelt, offering it to Beau. “I had meant to give you this, before I knew which mage had joined you. These are the symbols for the teleportation circle to the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. I do not trust him, but he is under your watch.”

Dairon handed to paper to Beauregard, standing and watching her for a moment. “It had to be done. Ikithon’s methods are harsh, but we need to know what Trent is doing. If you can, find out why he wants you in Rexxentrum; if you discover any proof against him, perhaps we can stop whatever plan he has in motion." With those parting words, the elven monk turned to leave, wooden doors closing heavily behind her.

Beauregard forced herself to her feet, wiping the blood from her lip as she glared after her mentor. If that was supposed to be an apology, it was a shitty one. And given to the wrong person. Nor did it make Beau feel any better knowing Dairon had used fucking Ikithon’s method of conditioning Caleb to get information. She was definitely going to kick Dairon’s ass next time she saw her.

After just a moment to steady herself, Beau tucked the parchment into a pocket and followed. She wasn’t going to leave Caleb out there alone any longer. Fuck, what must he be thinking right now? Hell, even _she_ didn’t know what to think.

Dairon didn’t know what she was talking about. She didn’t know Caleb.

Beau didn’t believe Caleb was some plant by Trent; his fear was too real, too visceral, to be faked. Yeah, maybe he had someone else pulling his strings, but if she really thought about it, he hadn’t exactly hidden that from them.

He always did what they told him to do, had seemed surprised (more like confused as hell) when they’d told him he didn’t have to. Like it was normal for them to just tell him what to do. And the whole belonging to them thing? If Caleb was untrustworthy it was because Trent had poured that into his skull and forced him to be that way. But he didn’t belong to Trent anymore.

And there was no _way_ he was Ikithon’s ally, accomplice, whatever. No one would willingly work with someone who hurt and threatened them. Not by choice.

Caleb still had a long way to go before he accepted that he was actually worth being treated like a person, and that was all thanks to Trent. Sure, the mage had his own issues, but Caleb wasn’t untrustworthy, not how Dairon had meant it.

Caleb was waiting outside, standing with his arms behind him, gaze fixed on the floor just like he had been earlier. Beau looked him over quickly, making sure there were no new injuries, that no one else had harmed him during her and Dairon’s little scuffle. She let out a little sigh of relief finding none, heading over towards him.

Caleb looked up at her approach with a blank resignation that turned rapidly into abject terror as his eyes scanned across her bloodied form. He broke the attentive stance, backing away with a sharp intake of breath. He only stopped as his back hit the wall, gaze breaking away from her as he looked over his shoulder, as if a doorway would magically appear that he could escape through.

“Hey, Caleb, I’m fine. It’s okay. I’m sorry.” Beau tried speaking gently, hands held to the side peaceably. The guilt only intensified seeing the fear written plainly on his face, his bloodied lip. That was nothing to the sick feeling in her stomach when Caleb took in a shuddering breath, stepping forward to stand still and compliant once more, folding his arms behind his back, gaze fixed on the floor in front of him.

She was afraid to touch him, unsure which would be worse; him flinching from her or standing still to take whatever it was he imagined she was going to do to him. Everything they’d ever said to him must feel like empty promises now. The words felt hollow, but she tried reassuring him anyway. “I’m not going to do anything, Caleb. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was gonna do that. I swear.”

He stood there silently, waiting. For a question, for an order; Beau had no clue what. She took in a slow breath, scrambling for something, anything to say to fix this. “About Rexxentrum, and… all of that, it’s… we’ll talk it over with the others, it-.” She cut off as Caleb flinched, guilt eating away at her.

“No. No, not like- Dammit.” Beau said miserably, dropping her arms. She was in way over her head and she knew it. At this rate she was just going to make it worse. Probably already had. “Just… come on. Let’s go.”

Caleb didn’t move, so Beau hesitantly turned to head back toward the stairs. She was both relieved and worried when he automatically stayed in step behind her, holding the same vulnerable pose. Beauregard ground her teeth, rolling the soreness from her shoulders as she faced forward and led the way, glowering at anyone they crossed paths with.

As they approached the higher traffic area Beau paused, feeling way too anxious with Caleb behind her. She couldn’t see him. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him (she did… sort of…), but she knew he wasn’t exactly in a frame of mind to be watching out for himself and it that was bugging the hell out of her. Beau glanced back at him, frowning with concern. He’d come to a stop the same distance from her as before, still standing at attention with his gaze lowered.

“Caleb, mind walking beside me now? It’d made me a whole lot more comfortable.” She asked, barely finishing the request before Caleb was obediently stepping forward to stand beside her.

He was still shaking, find tremors across Caleb’s shoulders and down his torso. It made Beau feel both guiltier and like ripping into the next person who even looked at Caleb sideways. Damned Dairon… “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you, Caleb.” She whispered to him quietly, leaning down a little to try and catch his gaze. Whatever that promise was worth now.

She failed miserably, no surprise, the wizard looking away from her carefully.

Beau sighed lightly, frustration and guilt curling in her stomach when Caleb twitched in the barest flinch at the sound. “…just stay beside me, okay?” She asked him, voice as soft and quiet as possible.

He didn’t reply, but when she turned to continue toward the stairs, he kept pace obediently at her side.


	42. Chapter 42

Mollymauk was the first to see them, eyes skimming worriedly over Beau’s bloody face and collar, then narrowing with fury as he noticed the state Caleb was in. There was less blood, but he looked absolutely _broken_. Molly hissed quietly, one hand moving to lightly slap against Yasha’s arm to get her attention. He abandoned the books he had collected to make his way towards the two humans, uncaring of the angry looks he received shoving past anyone in his way.

Yasha paused only for as long as it took to call softly out to Jester, then followed Mollymauk more carefully.

“What the fuck happened?” Molly growled in a near snarl, gaze darting between Beauregard and Caleb. Try as he might, there was no making his tone any less furious than that. He wasn’t quite angry at Beau just yet, she looked like shit currently too. The monk was also not focused on him or the rest of the group, instead keeping a watchful eye on the Cobalt Soul members that wandered the library around them.

“I’ll explain it later, not here. Can you… I dunno, just…” Beau met his gaze briefly, head nodding toward Caleb helplessly.

Caleb didn’t seem to be faring any better now that they’d rejoined the group. He was visibly trembling now, twitching away from each of their movements. Explaining things here and now was just going to piss everyone off, which wouldn’t be good for anyone. She deserved Molly yelling at her, but making a scene here…

Beau frowned, noticing Erran following Jester and Yasha towards them. “Gimme a sec.” She muttered, moving to head him off and leaving Caleb with the other three as Yasha and Jester reached them.

Instinctively, Molly reached out to stop Caleb from keeping in step the monk, hand barely touching the mage’s arm before Caleb was stepping back into his original spot. Yasha moved where Beau had been beside Caleb, watching Beau speak with the Archivist.

Jester moved up to Caleb, reaching up to touch his face gently. With a soft pink glow, the split lip healed, a trace of blood the only remnant.

“It’s okay, Caleb.” Jester said gently, trying very very hard not to cry. He didn’t look at her, didn’t react. Didn’t pull away from her touch even though she could feel him shaking under her fingers. She took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself with a wordless noise of worry.

Beau returned a few moments later, gaze fixed on Erran for a moment as the Archivist turned back to the table of books they had abandoned. Only when he and another monk were focused on returning them to their rightful place did she turn her attention back to the others.

Caleb made a short move forward towards her again, stopping once more and stepping back with a frightened breath at a second gentle touch from Molly.

“Beau, what happened? Are we in danger here?” Yasha asked Beau, worry in her voice as she watched Caleb’s odd behavior.

“No.” Beau said, shaking her head. Frustration and helplessness colored her tone, gaze flickering briefly to Caleb. “I mean… maybe? I don’t know, okay?”

Caleb let their words wash over him, focusing on remaining still and obedient. As obedient as he could be. Beauregard had told him to stay by her, yet Mollymauk wanted him to remain at his side, had needed to remind Caleb a second time. _Inexcusable_. The hopelessness of pleasing them, the impossibility of doing _anything_ to lessen the severity of the promised ‘talk’ they would have later… it drove icy shards of anxiety into his chest.

Their anger was not directed at him, not yet, but it was only a matter of time. He had betrayed them, kept secrets from them. He had _lied_ , had been the cause of Beauregard’s discipline at the hands of her teacher. Foolishly, he had not considered that a possible consequence. Yet another failure. Actions and consequences. Beauregard had trusted him, Dairon had uncovered the deception, and Beauregard had remained when Caleb had been sent out.

He had only made it worse for himself, backing away from her before. Such displays of weakness were not tolerated. He had now disobeyed the order to stay beside her. Twice. He had failed and should accept the consequences. What lenience they had shown him would no longer be extended after this.

He would try to enjoy these last few minutes of gentle acceptance; it would end once Beauregard told them what he had done.

“Okay, okay.” Mollymauk spoke, tone sharp enough to catch Caleb’s undivided attention, though still the fury was not directed at himself. Yet. “How about we just get out of here before something _else_ happens?”

“Molly, she did not-.”

“Yash, I get it, but I honestly don’t care right now.” Molly interrupted, shaking his head. His tone softened as he addressed Caleb, reaching out to tug gently at the sleeve of the mage’s coat. “Caleb, try and relax, act natural, stick close to Yasha. Trust me, no one else is going to get anywhere _near_ you, okay?”

Caleb simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His throat was too thick with anxiety and fear, certainty that the end of this day held bitter failure and pain. His hands shook as he held them at his sides, trying to adjust his stance to whatever Mollymauk might accept at ‘natural’.

He winced hearing a sniffle coming from Jester, gaze skidding carefully away from the cleric. He could not help but wonder how hot her anger would burn. A cleric’s ability could force his body to endure discipline far past his normal limits and still leave him physically able to function and obey their orders. And Jester was not alone in her healing ability.

Nausea swirled in his stomach as he kept pace with Yasha, Beauregard leading the way to the entrance of the Valley Archives. The monk snapped a parting comment to the archivist at the desk before leading them out onto the streets. Her anger had not dimmed, and he did not expect it to. She had never trusted him and had been proven correct.

Jester drifted closer to Caleb as they reached the streets, still keeping her arms wrapped around herself. She was still _very_ upset, but she tried to push that to the side until they were somewhere safer. She would talk to the Traveler later, probably cry, but for now Caleb was still scared and she agreed with Molly. No one was getting anywhere near him.

They drew a lot more attention crossing the Pentamarket this time. One monk with drops of blood on her clothes and, should one look close enough, a bit on her face, two Tieflings flanking another human that people would have to be blind not to notice was uncomfortable, and Yasha’s taller form following close behind.

The sun had reached its peak hours ago, well into the afternoon as they reached the Leaky Tap. The tavern was nearly empty as they entered, only a few customers sitting drinking quietly from their mugs.

The bartender was the same young man from the previous evening, the boy freezing with his rag wiping the countertop, eyes wide as he watched them enter. His eyes followed them as they made their way quietly to the stairs, focusing on Caleb as they escorted the mage up the stairs.

They ran into Fjord on the way, the warlock’s gaze drifting over all of them before he grimaced. “Nott’s with Caduceus in our room.” He told them, falling into step with them as they walked past.

“I’ll get them.” Molly offered.

The rest of them followed Beau into her and Jester’s room, the cleric gently urging the wizard to sit down. Eventually, she had to give up and just tell him, all her offers and hints only stressing him out.

Jester sat next to him with her hands awkwardly in her lap, gaze wandering between Fjord and Yasha, hoping one of them would know what to do.

Beauregard paced around the room for a moment, then snatched the pillow from the other bed. After pushing it carefully into Caleb’s hands, she grabbed the blanket as well, nearly toppling Fjord, who sat on the other bed, when yanking it from beneath him. She draped it over the mage, glad he didn’t flinch, but knowing he was probably still just as terrified. She had just started looking around for a second before Fjord interrupted.

“Beau, what are you doing?”

“We need to have a discussion, and it’s hard to be worried someone’s going to punch you if you’re covered in blankets and pillows.” She stated bluntly, brow furrowing when no other blankets presented themselves. It was probably, to date, the weirdest thing she had ever said, but it was the only idea she had currently. And she needed to do _something_.

“No one is punching Caleb.” Jester hissed from beside the wizard.

“No offense Beau, but it looks like you were the one someone got punch happy on.” Fjord commented, glancing worriedly at Jester and Caleb before focusing on Beau again. “Mind explaining what’s going on?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Molly agreed as he entered the room, Caduceus and Nott following behind him. “So now that we’re all here, mind explaining.”

Caleb tensed, arms curling around the pillow Beauregard had wanted him to hold. He slowly looked up toward Beauregard, watching her rub the back of her neck. Why did she hesitate? Because Dairon had disciplined her? The blame fell on him for that, she should be expressing her displeasure upon him.

“Dairon wanted to ask him some questions.” Beauregard began slowly, drawing in a breath and letting out a sigh. “I told her she could talk to him. _Just talk._ It started out okay, I mean Dairon was her normally self, but… she asked a question, Caleb answered. Until she asked what Trent was doing, what he was up to. King’s holding a celebration in a couple weeks…”

“I overheard that from a few of the guards on the streets.” Nott chimed in when Beau hesitated for a moment. “It’s in honor of the peace agreement. There’s supposed to be a representative from the Bright Queen’s den and one of our councilors will be over at the Dynasty.”

“Like a reverse hostage exchange?” Jester asked.

Nott shrugged. “Sounds that way to me. I would have asked, but they didn’t exactly know I was listening.”

Beau snorted, shaking her head. The amusement was short lived, the monk drawing a slow breath and continuing. “Anyway… Caleb said he didn’t know what Trent was doing.” Beau grimaced, looking away and trying to ignore how Caleb was trying to curl into himself. She was guilty and uncomfortable, he was downright terrified, and drawing it out wasn’t helping anyone. “Dairon forced him to tell the truth; hit him twice then Caleb said that Trent wants us in Rexxentrum in two weeks time.”

“ _What_?”

The hanging silence was broken by a low growled question that came, unexpectedly, from Yasha.

“It’s not like I saw it coming!” Beau explained. “She was a foot away from him, I couldn’t stop her. And then he admitted that about Trent, and I just… I made her stop after that, nothing else happened.”

For a moment, the room was a chaotic mix of voices; angry, annoyed, disappointed, worried, and otherwise.

“The whole reason you were with him was so something wouldn’t happen in the _first_ place!” Molly snarled, claws digging into the bed beneath him.

“Beau, that was very irresponsible of you!” Nott scolded.

“Oh, Caleb, I’m so sorry.” Jester lamented, hands fluttering about as she tried to keep herself from reaching out to the mage. “Are you okay, do you need any more healing?”

“Let’s all just calm down and sort this out. Anyone?” Caduceus tried and failed to speak into the chaos.

“I didn’t just pat her on the back and call it a job well done!” Beau was snapping defensively at Molly, one hand gesturing the forming bruise on her face and the flecks of blood. “How the hell do you thing this happened? I think I made myself pretty clear that was a shitty thing she did.”

“Guys… guys stop…” Jester stood up, trying to get their attention, worried gaze on Caleb.

They were fighting. They were fighting and it was his fault, and they would realize that soon. They would realize that he had lied, that he had betrayed them, and that fury would be directed at him. No blanket, no pillow, would prevent that.

He flinched as Fjord let out a loud whistle, shrinking back as the others fell into sudden silence. He could barely breath, knew their gazes were on him, but he did not dare look up. He had tried. He had tried and he had failed.

It would be impossible to complete the task Master Ikithon had set out for him now. They would not trust him.

It would be equally impossible to please them either. They would perhaps still keep him, he… he had been useful. He hoped enough. They could not kill him, not without breaking the peace agreement, which they had so far been adamant to uphold. Not a comforting thought, there were many punishments that could easily make him beg for death.

It was possible they would decide to send him back.

Master would be furious.

But so were the Mighty Nine, and he knew nothing of how extensive their punishments would be. He may soon wish for the simplicity of Master Ikithon’s discipline.

“Caleb.”

The mage looked up as Fjord spoke his name, wary of the gentle tone and the lack of movement from his interrogators.

“What did you mean when you said Trent wants us in Rexxentrum in two weeks?”


	43. Chapter 43

_“What did you mean when you said Trent wants us in Rexxentrum in two weeks?”_

~~

Caleb drew in a breath, eyes skirting nervously around them before focusing on the floor. “I-I… m-meant, ah…” He struggled to form the words, fear and panic making it hard to speak Common. Zemnian words filled his mind; pleas and excuses, bids for mercy he did not deserve. That he would not receive anyway. “M-master Ikithon messaged me when- when- a-after we had been in Nicodranas.”

Caleb closed his eyes, shivering and trying to force the words to come out clearly, tried to banish the stammer and tremble from his voice. “He o-only said, to… to convince you to go to Rexxentrum in- in t-three weeks time.”

Beau sat down on the floor, leaning forward to look at Caleb, asking quietly. “Did you agree?”

“Beau!” Nott hissed.

“What, it’s a legitimate question.” Beau replied, glancing at Nott before looking back at Caleb. Her words were soft, despite her usual gruff tone. “I’m not gonna be mad either way. I get it, okay. It’s not like you had much choice. I don’t blame you. I won’t hurt you. I just wanna know.”

Caleb looked away, knuckles white with the force of how hard he held onto the pillow in his arms. He nodded slowly; throat too tight to speak.

“So, what do we want to do?"

Caleb winced as the monk posed the question to the others. Now he would find out what they would do with him. How they would correct his deception, his mistakes. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, bile rising in his throat.

“Going to Rexxentrum seems like a bad idea. It would take over a week to get there.” Nott advised.

“Which won’t leave us much time to figure out what Trent’s up to.” Beau agreed, brow furrowing as she looked down at her lap in thought.

Caleb almost didn’t dare to breath, watching them speak warily. The deserved punishment was not as immediately forthcoming as he had expected, none of them so much as stood or moved toward him after the admission.

“We could just… not? Avoid Rexxentrum til this whole thing blows over.” Fjord offered, tone saying as much as his expression he didn’t think that would work.

“And let Trent do whatever the fuck he pleases?” Molly scoffed, eyes narrowing as he grinned in an almost predatory manner. His voice was velvet steel as he almost growled. “I say we pay him a visit.”

“I would like pay him a visit as well.” Yasha agreed darkly.

Fjord shook his head at them, then turned his gaze back to Caleb. The mage quickly dropping his own eyes back down to the floor. “Caleb, do you know what he’s planning? Why he wants us there?”

The same question Dairon had asked, the one Beauregard had interrupted the elf from pressing him about. His answer was the same. “I do not know.”

“Can you guess?” Jester inquired.

Caleb swallowed thickly, forcing himself to breath evenly. Guess? How was- No. She had given an order, he would obey. “I… it- it- i-if he is, ah, if he is connected to Eodwulf’s p-plan’s against the king. He- he might be planning, ah, to shift blame. If- if something were to happen…”

He trailed off, shaking hard enough it showed in his voice. She had said guess. He had done the best he could given their presumptions his master was involved in the plot against the king. If Master Ikithon was involve, he would take precautions not to be blamed. His reputation was everything to him, he would not risk tarnishing that.

“As far as master plots go, pretty cliché.” Fjord snorted.

“So is faking your own death, but they’ve got that box checked, so I wouldn’t put it past him.” Beau shot back.

Caleb risked looked up at them, gaze flickering between them, unsure if they were displeased with the attempt. He glanced over at Jester, the cleric giving him what was clearly a forced smile. He dropped his gaze again with a shudder. They still made no move to discipline him.

“We could get there faster…” Beau hedged, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the parchment Dairon had given her.

The monk shifted onto her knees, shuffling carefully closer to the wizard. Caleb flinched at her approach, face going paler as his hands tightened reflexively over the pillow. Not even a second later, though, he let it go, hands shaking as he made as if to set it aside.

“No, Caleb. I’m not-.” Beau shook her head, heart sinking. He was so scared for her just to come up to him, even like this. She offered the paper to him, keeping her movements careful. “I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. Here, look. Dairon said it’s the symbols for the teleportation circle in Rexxentrum. To the Cobalt Soul.”

Caleb met her gaze for the briefest of moments, then looked at the paper. He made no move to take it, just sat waiting. Beau unfolded it, shifting slightly closer and brushing one of Caleb’s hands with her own. He immediately offered it to her, palm up. She put the paper in his hand, scooting back. “Can you use that?”

Caleb was watching her again, instead of the paper, eyes full of wary disbelief. After a second, he looked down, scanning the symbols for a moment. “Yes, Beauregard.

Beau nodded, moving back to her original spot and leaving the paper with Caleb. “We can be there tomorrow if we wanted then.”

“What would the plan be, exactly?” Fjord asked warily. “Charging in and threatening one of the leaders of the Assembly doesn’t sound like a great idea.”

“I think it’s a fabulous idea.” Molly snipped irritably.

“He’s going to expect us to show up, but if we go tomorrow, we’ll have at least a few days head start.” Beau interjected. “If Caleb got that message when we were in Nicodranas, it would take us at least two weeks to get to Rexxentrum, maybe a little longer. So, he wouldn’t expect to see us until a three or four day’s before the celebration.”

“No charging in then?” Molly said with a disappointed sigh.

“Dairon was pretty clear; confronting Trent isn’t a good idea. He’s close to the King, Dairon things he’s the reason Curator Yudala hasn’t been able to get an audience with him.”

“Not sure I care what Dairon thinks, Beau.” Molly growled.

“It’s not just Dairon, it’s the Cobalt Soul in general.” Beau stated. “The point is, the Cerberus Assembly is shutting the Cobalt Soul out. It’s supposed to be a system of checks and balances.”

“Jester, what if _tomorrow_ you messaged Essek, ask him if the whole council celebration exchange thing is legitimate.” Fjord suggested, stressing that she do it in the morning. No need to annoy the shadowhand this late.

“You think the rumour of the exchange is a cover?” Caduceus suggested.

“Maybe.” Fjord nodded. “If the point pinning blame, killing the king, or even just starting the war… A few assassins disguised as dignitaries would do both. King is gone, people blame Xhorhas.”

“Wouldn’t they be looking for magical disguises though?” Jester questioned.

“Wouldn’t the Assembly be in charge of that, Caleb?” Beau asked, looking over at Caleb.

“Ah… y-yes. A-Although, if Master Ikithon is- is present, he or- or more likely, o-one of his students would be responsible for, ah, for casting the detect magics spells.” Caleb answered nervously.

“Easy enough for him to fake it then.” Beau concluded.

“You find out anything else from Dairon? About what’s going on here in Zadash?” Fjord asked, changing the subject to the whole reason for coming here in the first place.

“Not a whole lot.” Beau sighed. “Tension is increasing between the Cobalt Soul and the Academy. But it sounds like at least _some_ of them are working together. Whatever the threat against the King, there’s more than just some rogue mages and Trent involved.”

“Hold on, if the plan was to kill the King, why was Eodwulf over in Xhorhas?” Nott asked.

“Perhaps the plan was originally to attack the Dynasty.” Caduceus mused thoughtfully. “We did encounter the mage near the border. And Eodwulf was right across on the Dynasty side. But then Caleb joined us thanks to the peace agreement, and when we discovered them, maybe things changed.”

“Maybe.” Fjord hedged. “Did anyone find out anything else at the archives?”

“Not really.” Molly answered. “Caleb found some things that almost matched Eodwulf’s symbol. But none of us found anything out that we don’t already know. What about you three?”

“Most of the refugees seem to be coming from the North.” Fjord reported, shaking his head. “And Caduceus was right, a lot of them don’t look like refugees.”

“Get a count of how many there might be?” Beau asked.

“There’s plenty of people just out on the streets. War’s been hard on everyone and it hasn’t been long enough yet for them to really get back on their feet. But near as we could see… maybe thirty?”

“Thirty for a city this big, that’s not too bad…” Beau muttered, though her brow furrowed with worry. “If they try and make a move, the monks at the Cobalt Soul should be able to keep things under control. The mages at the Hall of Erudition might help, Oremid seems like he’d try and keep the peace at least.”

“Do you think they will be waiting for whatever happens in Rexxentrum?” Yasha spoke up.

“Mess up whatever the plan is there, buy some more time here?” Beau guessed, leaning to brace her elbow on her leg. “Makes sense.”

“So, we’ll head to Rexxentrum tomorrow.” Fjord suggested, glancing around at them. He nodded in agreement with the rest of them (except Caleb who seemed to be trying not to draw any attention at all).

Molly uncurled himself from his seat beside Fjord, stretching on his feet. It seemed no one else had anything else to say, they’d discussed about as much as they could in one evening, and he was mentally exhausted. “Caleb, do you-“

Jester leapt to her feet, holding out her hands toward Molly as she interrupted him. “Wait wait!” She glanced over at Caleb, offering a soft “sorry” when he flinched away, then turning back to Molly with a forced cheerful tone. “Molly, you guys should totally stay here with us. Here!”

She tugged carefully on Caleb’s arm, the mage quickly following her direction as she guided him to the far side of the bed against the wall.

“Yasha, you go grab everyone else’s pillows. Beau, you go sit there!” Jester ordered, dragging Beau upright and pushing her to the left side of Caleb. Jester nodded to herself, pleased that the mage was starting to look a little more bewildered than terrified. It was a start!

Jester twirled around, grabbing Molly and dragging him over to push him on the other side of Caleb. She dropped onto the floor, digging around under what was her bed to pull out her shield. “Here, Nott. This will be your little lookout tower.” She explained, propping the shield at the end of the bed, tongue sticking out slightly as she adjusted it.

Nott snickered, clambering up on the bed and hiding behind the shield, peeking up over it to look at the door.

Beau watched Jester working, then leaned forward slightly to look between Molly and Caleb and speaking quietly. “About Dairon… I really am sorry.”

Molly snorted and shrugged. Caleb met Beau’s gaze briefly, shoulders inching up slightly as he looked away. “It is… Ah, I should… I am sorry… I should not have lied. It- it is my fault you were hurt.”

“What this?” Beau scoffed, smirking before her expression turned more serious. “It’s not your fault, she shouldn’t have hurt you. Me and Dairon had a little argument about it, and if you must know, I started the fight. So not your fault.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it Caleb.” Molly advised, leaning against him gently. “Beau’s got a hard head, she’ll be fine.”

Beau grunted agreement, drawing on leg up toward her chest as she tried to relax despite Caleb’s tense form beside her.

Yasha soon returned with an armful of pillows while Jester was tugging on a resistant Fjord. The cleric let go of him to spin around with a happy gasp as she grabbed some of the pillows and started stacking them around those on the bed.

“Jester, what are you doing?” Yasha finally asked, following her and handing the rest as the blue Tiefling worked.

“I’m making a fort. It always made me feel better when I was younger.” She explained. Jester had noticed how much less scared Caleb had been last time they’d had a really tough talk and they’d all basically piled up together for the night. He probably didn’t like to be alone, and she definitely understood that. She didn’t like being alone **at all**.

Caleb was looking very very confused, Jester noticed sneaking a peek at him, but not so scared. He’d even talked to Beau for a minute.

Beau was looking awkward and uncomfortable squished in the corner, moving to settling near Yasha when the Aasimar woman joined the ‘fort’ being built. Jester threw some of the pillows into the empty space, then pushed on Molly’s shoulder to get the both him and Caleb to scoot over.

“Okay!” She chirped, curling up beside Molly. “Fjord and Caduceus, you’ll have to be the outside walls.” She told them, pointing to the floor along the side of the bed.

“Why do we have to sleep on the floor?” Fjord complained, catching the pillow Beau threw at him.

“Becaaaaause. You’re job is to guard the door if someone comes knocking, and Caduceus is just nice and plays along.”

~~

Caleb lay still, counting each minute silently in his head. Slowly, each of the others’ breathing evened out into sleep, Molly eventually curling up into a small ball tucking against Caleb’s side, Jester half draped across the blood hunter. Nott was tucked into Yasha’s side, Beauregard’s top half laying across Yasha too.

Caduceus and Fjord leaned against each other and the side of the bed; Fjord with his arms crossed, head lolling forward, Caduceus, leaning back using Jester's leg as a pillow. As Jester had dictated, Fjord was closes to the door of the room. 

Each pain free breath was an impossible miracle to Caleb. It made no sense.

He should be bound, bleeding and regretting to dare lie to them, to try and deceive them. Beauregard should have beaten him til her knuckles bled, Jester repairing the damage when it became too great, only for Beauregard to start again. Fjord should take his time carving line after line of painful red along his arms, his body, paint the floor crimson with the lesson.

Yasha should snap his bones as easily as twigs, until Caduceus tired of healing, until Mollymauk demanded his recompence. Those deep violet claws should dig into his skin, carve the lesson deep so he would never even think to deceive them again. Mollymauk should burn loyalty into his skin, hellish fire searing a permanent reminder.

But here he lay. Unhurt, unthreatened. They had offered only apologies, patience, and reassurance. He did not like this uncertainty. Rules he knew. Failure and punishment, he knew. Disobedience and correction, he _knew_. This…

This made no sense.

He waited. Hours and hours he waited, until his eyes grew heavy and sleep finally found him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jester is determined for them to be friends.  
> Jester: You two had a issue today? **sit next to each other and play nice**


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings!! Descriptions of torture, somewhat graphic, in the first part of this chapter

_Caleb screamed as Beauregard drove her fist into his ribs; screamed at the cracking of bone, the wet sound of blood. His back blazed as Fjord cut a slow line across his body as it slowly spun between them, suspended mere inches from the blood-soaked floor._

_Blood ran in slow rivers down his body, splattering across the two of them from each blow Beauregard dealt. She stepped back as her next hit only produced a low moan, making way for Jester as the Blue Tiefling stepped forward and ran her fingers from his neck down his chest. Caleb only sobbed as the magic flowed, feeling no relief as the pain faded; this was no kindness, this was a punishment._

_Caleb fell, Mollymauk’s grip on his throat holding him aloft as the Tiefling’s eyes blazed hellish red, fangs bared in a furious snarl. He leaned down, drawing in a slow breath as he took in the scent of blood and fear. Caleb’s back seared red hot against the floor beneath as Mollymauk held him pinned by the throat, straddling him with a wicked grin._

_“Please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I swear, please!” Caleb begged, sobbing and pleading for mercy._

_“Not as sorry as you will be.” Mollymauk whispered, claws sinking into the flesh of Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb screamed as they drew slow, jagged lines across his chest, from one shoulder to the other. The clawed fingers at his throat tightened as Caleb began to draw breath and he thrashed and choked under Mollymauk’s weight._

_The Tiefling’s laughter echoed, fire burning in his eyes, across Caleb’s chest, flames consuming Caleb’s vision until there were only flames. Screaming, hollow pain, a house on fire, flames blazing in the night sky as something shattered inside his chest, breaking him. The screams were not his own. Only the sobs, the tears, and he wished for the pain to return, because they were burning. They screamed and they burned and it was his doing._

~~

Caleb woke with a sharp intake of breath. Images swirled in his mind; images of fire, crimson blood flowing, screams and pleas for help, _traitors_ , tortured screams, soft brown hair and gentle eyes, deep belly laughter of a man so much larger than life… Flames roaring against a night sky, something shattering, breaking inside…

Much of it faded in a fog of sparkling light, leaving only the fear, the pain, and a sorrow for something he could not remember what.

Slowly, his heart rate returned to normal, Caleb looking carefully up at the ceiling as he regained his bearings. It was still early in the morning, barely past sunrise. He was with the Mighty Nine, Jester had demanded they all remain in this room together. She had… built a fort… They had not punished him, had not hurt him. Why?

As the last time they had woken in a comfortable pile, the Nine seemed to be reluctant to get up and start the day.

Beauregard’s legs stretched over Caleb’s, her front half laying atop Yasha’s lap. Yasha leaned back against the wall behind her, eyes closed but her hand moving gently through Beau’s hair betrayed her wakefulness.

With Mollymauk still curled beside Caleb, the mage was effectively caged in where he lay. Molly had wrapped an arm around Caleb’s torso, burying his face in Caleb’s side as if he were a giant pillow. His tail flicked lazily in a cat-like manner, tapping lightly against the mattress in a soft rhythm.

Jester was awake and sitting up, her notebook open in her lap as she scribbled away at a drawing. Caleb suspected it was of himself and Molly, given the way she glanced at them every so often. A flush crept up the back of his neck, but he remained still and silent.

Caduceus appeared to be meditating, Fjord copying his pose and apparently trying to do the same. He fidgeted, peeking his eyes open, and seemed generally distracted. He was the first to get up, abandoning the meditation exercise with a sigh.

Beau opened her eyes at the sound, looking over at him with slight smirk. “Done already?”

Yasha chuckled, opening her eyes as well to look down at the monk. “If you were awake, why didn’t you join them?”

“Who says I wasn’t? Pretty calm and peaceful right here, great for meditating.” Beau replied, smiling up at Yasha.

“Get a rooooom.” Jester teased.

“They’re already in a room, Jes.” Molly muttered, voice muffled against Caleb’s ribs. He sat up, yawning. “I think that’s the problem.”

Jester closed her book, sticking her tongue out at Molly before addressing the rest of them. “I was thinking, we should probably stock up on stuff while we are here. And Fjord you can sell that cart and horse so it doesn’t just go to waste this time.”

Fjord nodded, looking impressed. “That’s a good idea Jester, thank you.”

Jester grinned at him cheerfully, then glanced around at the others. “Well go on, shoo. I’ve got to get washed up and dressed and stuff.”

Molly snorted in amusement but untangled himself from the pile when she poked him.

Caleb followed after Molly, moving cautiously around Fjord and trailing along after the Tiefling.

He didn’t… he didn’t know what to think. He did not understand why they had not punished him. They should, he deserved it, but they had not. They made no mention of it now they had rested, had been given time to think on what to do with him.

Caleb followed Molly into their room, closing the door behind him. He stared at the floor silently, gathering his courage. He had to know. Whether this incited the punishment he feared… it mattered not. It was better than waiting, than playing some game of promises he could not believe would be kept. Actions had consequences.

“Molly…” Caleb began, brow furrowed as he looked down at the floor, back braced against the door to the room.

Molly turned around to face the wizard, a pleased smile curling on his face. Whether Caleb realized it or not, he’d used the shortened version of Molly’s name. “Hm?” He hummed as invitation for Caleb to continue trying to keep the exhilaration from his tone. That would just spook the wizard.

“Why… why have you not punished me?”

Well that certainly killed the mood. Molly’s smile slid from his face. He shook his head, sighing lightly. “Remember, I told you. There are no punishments with us, no corrections.”

“No rules to follow. Yes, I remember, but… I lied to you, betrayed you. There are… there should be consequences for that.” Caleb said, voice even despite the climbing rapidity of his breath.

Molly studied Caleb for a moment, head tilting as he regarded the mage. He was afraid, but it almost sounded… like he as asking to be hurt? Arguing for it? That made zero sense. Maybe just trying to find familiar territory, something that he was used to dealing with. The past twenty-four hours had been a rollercoaster, they’d utterly failed to keep up their end of the deal, basically delivering him to someone who’d hurt him. It was no wonder he was off balance.

Okay. He could play this game. Caleb had lived with rules and consequences his whole life, followed a logical trail of ‘do this, and that happens’. Time to give thinking like the wizard a shot.

“Alright. Let’s say there are consequences for that. But I don’t remember you lying to us. Or betraying us.” Molly said easily, shrugging and turning away from Caleb when he looked up in confusion. Molly busied himself packing up the few things in the room.

“But… I… I knew what Master Ikithon wanted. I lied when Dairon asked.” Caleb reasoned.

“From what Beau said, Dairon asked if you knew what Trent was doing. Not what he wanted. Two different things. Also, I don’t give a damn about Dairon. But that’s beside the point. We never asked you what Trent wanted, or even if he’d contacted you, so there was no way for you to lie. You just… didn’t share information. Which, is something a lot of us do sometimes anyway.” Molly explained easily, sitting down on one of the beds. He leaned back, crossing his ankles as he watched Caleb process that information. He was adorable when he was puzzled and it was _such_ a nice change from terrified.

Ah, but there was the fear again, back in place as Caleb stepped gingerly forward. Molly patted the bed beside him; just in case Caleb had it in his mind to kneel on the floor or something equally as unbearable. Obediently, Caleb sat next to Molly, hands clasp together in his lap.

“As for betraying us. Yeah, don’t see that either.” Molly continued lightly.

“I _agreed_ to the order.” Caleb said, anxiety coloring his voice.

“But at what point did you actually do anything about it?” Molly grinned. He could do this all day. Caleb really _hadn’t_ done anything wrong. He straightened, grin fading into a gentle smile as he told the mage as much. “Caleb, you didn’t do anything wrong. You never had a choice in any of that, and we understand. No one’s going to hurt you, punish you, correct you, none of that.”

“I… I don’t understand…why…” Caleb’s voice was almost a whisper, lost and scared.

Molly reached over pulling Caleb closer and wrapping his arms around the wizard. The mage was going to break his heart because, fuck, those words had _hurt_. “It’s okay if you don’t. Just trust me, it’ll be over my dead body before anyone hurts you again.”

Caleb shivered in his arms for a long moment before slowly returned the embrace, hand shaking slightly on Molly’s back. He was still afraid, that was clear, but he was trying so damn hard it made Molly proud. He wasn’t quite prepared for the sense of contentment, the almost possessive feeling as he reached up to gently run his claws through Caleb’s red hair.

He stopped as soon as he realized, easing away from Caleb.

Caleb sat back, face flushed as he kept his eyes down. That was… very different. He glanced up at Molly, the slight tension easing at the Tiefling’s gentle expression. Molly was slightly darker in the face, but there was no irritation, no anger, at the weakness Caleb was displaying.

“Come on.” Molly said, clearing his throat. “We should get moving before Beau comes banging on the doors. I’ll save you some breakfast downstairs.”

Molly grabbed his own equipment and pack, exiting the room and heading downstairs.

The others were already gathered, save for Jester and Beau. Nott had her porcelain half face-cover on, sitting in the corner with her hood up. Fjord was disguised as human, so he wasn’t drawing any attention. Caduceus got a few looks, and Yasha a few more, but all eyes fell on him when Molly stepped off the stairway.

Oh, boy. He squared his shoulders, putting on a grin like it didn’t bother him as he sauntered over to join the others. “Tough crowd today.” He commented, shamelessly hiding behind Yasha’s larger form. There were still eyes on him, but she blocked most of them.

“Yeah, sorry. Nott warned me and just sent a message to Jester.” Fjord said lowly.

“Sorry, Molly…” Nott apologized.

Molly shook his head. “It’s fine. Know what’s got them all in a twist?”

“They were whispering about demons when I came down.” Nott told him. “So it’s probably a good thing we’re leaving. That bartender there, he’s been spinning some story.”

“Apparently, he noticed you guys coming back yesterday afternoon.” Fjord said quietly, leaning forward.

“Ah.” Molly intoned, frowning. He could see where this was going. “Let me guess, some horrifying tale of kidnapping and torture?”

“Yeah… more or less.” Fjord agreed.

Molly sighed, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. It stung a little more because it was Caleb, and the mage’s experiences were… more or less exactly that. He was more annoyed he wouldn’t be keeping that promise to save Caleb some breakfast. It didn’t look like they were very welcome to stay that long.

“So, we sell the cart and horse, pick up some supplies? How much gold do we have?” Molly asked, changing the subject.

“Enough for a healing potion or two, but we haven’t used those you got in Nicodranas yet, so we don’t need many, if any, more of those. We can see if Pumat has any new items. I don’t have much for that, but if we find something worthwhile, we can pool together some gold if we need to.” Fjord explained, glad for the new topic.

“Guess Nott forgot to message you?” Beau interrupted their conversation, turning a chair around to sit in it backwards. Jester was behind her in human form, Caleb beside the cleric.

“I’ve just got bad timing.” Molly shrugged, leaning one elbow on the table.

“Speaking of timing, we should probably go.” Yasha told them.

Fjord followed her gaze, watching as the bartender was staring wide eyed between Caleb and Molly, whispering furiously to a burly looking man in leather armor. The man looked over at them, meeting Fjords gaze with a grimace.

“Yeah, we should go.” Fjord agreed. They didn’t need trouble with the locals and that was exactly what was brewing right now.

They stood up to leave, Fjord and Beau taking point, Nott slinking along behind them. Jester linked her arm into Caduceus’ as she put on a cheerful smile, the two of them following Molly, Yasha, and Caleb toward the door.

Caleb moved to walk beside Molly, offering quietly. “Ah, s-should I have- do you want me to cast a disguise spell?”

“Bit late for that, thanks.” Molly shook his head, glancing over at Caleb with a reassuring smile. “But it’s sweet of you to offer though.”

He grinned when Caleb blushed, though he knew he should probably feel bad about teasing the wizard.

There were footsteps following them, but they exited the tavern without any trouble, gathering with the others near the cart and horse. Caduceus had the horse’s halter in hand, the beast already hitched to the cart. Nott sat on the bench, now in her halfling form, watching Jester pat the horse’s neck.

“Caduceus, Nott- sorry, Veth, and myself will go to the smithery, see if they have use for a cart. If not, we’ll try some merchants or farmers near the gates. Caduceus can talk to them, so we won’t have to worry about the mages seeing through any disguises.” Fjord explained.

“The rest of us will get any supplies and we’ll all meet up at the Invulnerable Vagrant.” Beau finished. “Sound good?”

There was a consensus of agreement, the group heading out together towards the Pentamarket. They split off into two groups as the reached the busy bazaar; Nott sitting atop the cart as Fjord and Caduceus carefully navigated their way through the crowds heading toward the blacksmith. Beau and Yasha kept an eye out while Jester took the lead of their group, the cleric making their first stop of the morning a bakery.


	45. Chapter 45

Besides the bakery, there wasn’t much else for them to get in the way of supplies. The journey would take no time at all so they didn’t need provisions or camping gear. They had potions, and it was determined on the way to the Invulnerable Vagrant that none of them really had the gold to try and buy new gear.

Once they’d had some baked goods for breakfast, Jester led them towards Pumat’s store. Beau scouted out a little side street nearby that was in easy view of the main street, but out of the way enough they wouldn’t get any odd looks. The Invulnerable Vagrant was two shops down from them; Beau taking up a spot leaning against the wall of what was some kind of shoe store as she watched the crowds.

Jester found a spot to sit, shuffling around as Yasha joined her, and preparing to cast a message spell to Essek.

Molly started to join them, grin already forming as he wondered how many messages it would take for Jester to get the actual question to the drow mage, before Caleb approached him.

“M-mollymauk, ah, could-“ Caleb stopped, one arm curling across his stomach as he looked away. He was anxious, nervous about asking, but tried to not be afraid anyway. Molly had promised…

“You okay?” Molly turned to him, brow furrowed in concern.

“Y-yes, I… t-the teleportation spell, ah, it- it requires components.”

“Okay. Might as well go get that now, while we wait.” Molly answered easily, raising his voice slightly as he called out to Beau a few meters away “Hey, Beau! We’re gonna go get some wizard stuff!”

Caleb held still, gaze flickering over toward Beauregard who simply gave them a disinterested thumbs up.

“Come on, it’s just right over here.” Molly stated, taking a few steps before pausing to wave Caleb up beside him. “We’ve shopped there a few times before. Pumat’s a very interesting fellow, I think you’ll like him.”

Past a thin alley way, across from a few street vendors, stood the Invulnerable Vagrant. It was a large building, built of stained wood with green-gold velvet hangings on the outside. It appeared untouched by the elements; wood clean and glossy, hangings untarnished by dirt and unfaded by sun.

Molly opened the door to the shop, giving a little flourish as he escorted Caleb inside.

The interior of the building was warm and well-lit by lantern floating in the air. They slowly moved through the air, flames flickering merrily. A long table stood against the wall, a few books and items laid out on display. Molly almost chuckled as Caleb’s attention fell upon them first.

The wizard’s gaze soon found the shelf filled full of books along the back wall, Caleb almost perking at the sight. At the far end of the room stood a few glass cases, the contents of each varied in type.

Caleb reigned himself in as footsteps approached, moving to stand obediently beside Mollymauk as who he assumed was the proprietor came to greet them. Pumat Sol was a tall Firbolg, near seven foot, with short, brown, bushy, curly hair. His body was covered in a fine grey-ish brown fur, his eyes a gentle brown as they looked at the two customers.

“Well, hello there.” He greeted them evenly, smile evident in his tone. “Always nice to see a return customer. What can I do for you today?”

Molly smiled at Pumat, though his head tilted slightly in puzzlement. Pumat was smiling, was as polite as ever, but he almost seemed guarded. Other than glancing at Caleb, including him (kinda) in the initial greeting, he wasn’t paying much attention to the wizard.

“It’s always nice to be back.” Molly replied, shifting slightly closer to Caleb and reaching carefully out to place a hand around the mage’s shoulder. “Got a new friend, this here is Caleb.”

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, mister Caleb.” Pumat said, the hint of tension in his voice evaporation as he continued speaking in his natural jovial tone as he addressed the mage. He nodded to the both of them as he smiled. “We’re always welcoming to new and returning customers.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well.” Caleb replied, giving a slight bow.

“We’re actually here for something specific today.” Molly spoke again before things could get awkward. For whatever reason, Pumat was not quite ignoring Caleb, but the Firbolg’s attention certainly focused more on Mollymauk.

“Of course, what can I get for ya?”

There was a beat of awkward silence, Pumat looking between the two of them with unhurried patience. Caleb was looking at the ground, expression neutral, and didn’t look like he would be volunteering any information without prompting.

“Caleb?” Molly spoke the mage’s name gently, hoping the prompt wouldn’t make him think he’d done something wrong. If Trent was as controlling as Molly was getting the picture he was, Caleb probably had never had the opportunity or need to request material. He was going to have to now, though, because Molly didn’t have a clue what items a wizard needed for their magic.

Caleb ducked his head slightly. “Of course, Mollymauk.”

He looked up at Pumat then, listing the required components.

“Ah, I- I need some, ah, chalks and ink for ah, for use in making a teleportation circle. If I may?” Caleb glanced over at Mollymauk at the end, tone lilting up in question.

Molly’s brow furrowed as there was again a stretch of awkward silence. He glanced between Pumat and Caleb as they both looked at him, both apparently waiting.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He was _not_ going to play this game. He was not going to give Caleb _permission_ to buy something. It was a sickening realization to know that _both_ of them expected it.

“Tell you what…” He began, pulling out his own coin purse and pushing it gently into Caleb’s hands. “You get whatever you want, and if you run out of money come find me, I’ll get more.” He wasn’t running away, he was just… tactfully retreating. Before he broke down and grabbed Caleb in a hug, or went on a long rant about how he wasn’t property, he could buy whatever the hell he wanted and none of them would stop him.

“You okay there?” Pumat asked Caleb once the Tiefling had left.

“Ja.” Caleb nodded, still watching to doorway Mollymauk had left through. He held Tiefling’s bag of money uncertainly, reluctant to use it even though Molly had basically told him to.

_Buy whatever you want._

“Ah, the ah, the components for the spell?”

“Of course, that’s not a problem at all. We have a fine selection of spell components. Right this way.” Pumat said easily, leading him toward the far side of the store. He opened one of the glass cases, retrieving the chalk and ink. “For enough for one use, that’ll run you, oh, let me just see here…”

Pumat led them back to the front desk of the store, placing the items on the table and looking through a book for a brief moment. “That’ll be 50 gold pieces, there.”

He counted out the fifty gold first, taking first from the pouch Jester had given him. He was surprised to find the contents of that were nearly thirty gold and he carefully counted them out on the counter one at a time. The rest he took form the pouch Mollymauk had given him. He hesitated as he reached the required amount, glancing toward the door then looking back at Pumat.

“Ah, would you… would you happen to have herbs and incense? Ah, about ten gold worth. And a bit of charcoal?” He asked softly. Molly had said buy whatever he wanted. Asking for the components to summon Frumpkin, should anything happen to his friend, set his pulse racing but he would gladly accept any consequences for spending so much of Mollymauk’s gold. It would be worth it, to have the ability to bring Frumpkin back at any time, to not need to earn the right to have him again.

“Looking to summon a familiar, eh?” Pumat guessed, moving about to gather the requested items.

“Ah, ja. In a way.” Caleb replied, relaxing a little. Pumat played by the rules Caleb had been raised on, even if Molly very quickly threw those rules out the window. There was still common ground, for all Pumat had been blessed with more freedoms than Caleb could ever dream of.

He clicked his fingers, Frumpkin appearing on the counter top. “He is, ah, he is Frumpkin. It would be nice to- to have the components on hand if, ah, if it is necessary.”

“Why hello there little fella.” Pumat greeted Frumpkin, offering one large fur covered hand to the cat. Frumpkin sniffed politely at the hand, but padded over to Caleb with a meow. Caleb smiled sadly, reaching out to pet the cat as he whispered quietly. “Ich habe dich auch vermisst.”

“He sure is a fine little fella.” Pumat commented as he placed the incense and charcoal next to the other components already laid on the counter. “That’ll be ten gold for these here items.”

“Ah, thank you.” Caleb said, counting out the additional gold as Frumpkin inspected the items and let Pumat pet him. Caleb looked up at Pumat as he placed the last gold onto the counter, sliding it carefully towards the other. “Things are, ah, they seem very volatile here in Zadash?”

“Oh, yeah.” Pumat agreed, taking the gold and nodding. “It’s made business difficult for me and the other me’s. To be honest, the two of you are the first customers we’ve had in days. Usually we just get the students and teachers from the academy, but the odd adventurer comes in every now and then. What with the Academy shut down…”

“Other me’s?” Caleb asked, confused.

“Oh, sure.” Pumat nodded with a smile, stepping back and calling toward the back room. “Hey me! Care to come out here for a minute? There’s a customer.”

Caleb watched with interest as an identical Firbolg stepped out from the back room, peering around with interest before his gaze found Caleb. “Why, hello there. It’s a pleasure to have your business.”

“Oh. There are two of you?” Caleb asked, eyebrows lifting with interest.

“There are four of us all together. There’s me, me, and a third me helping Pumat prime with an enchantment.” The second Pumat explained, pointing to himself, the Pumat beside him, then finally to the back room as he spoke.

“Not illusions then.” Caleb discerned. He glanced down as Frumpkin made a soft noise at him, picking the cat up and laying him around his shoulders. He scratched the cat’s head gently as he turned his attention back to the Firbolgs. “That is impressive. Is it a permanent spell, or one that must be performed each day?”

“Oh, it’s permanent.” The first told him.

“At least so far.” The second added with a slight curl to his lips.

“We’re magically manifested duplicates, courtesy of the Cerberus Assembly to assist Pumat Prime.” The first Pumat finished explaining.

“Ah, thank you, that is… interesting. Thank you for your time, and for the, ah, the components.” Caleb replied, gathering said purchases.

“Anytime, it is the least we can do. You take care and tell that other fella to take care too. Zadash isn’t the safest place for some folk during times like these.” Pumat told him.

“Dank.” Caleb thanked, with a slight inclination of his head, then turned and left the shop. They certainly were interesting, Caleb thought to himself, just as Mollymauk had said they would be. He paused outside the closed door of the shop, staring pensively at the streets. The citizen’s of Zadash seemed to be giving the shop a wide berth, coming no where near the pristine looking shop.

He supposed it made a certain amount of sense, if the attack on the Lawmaster was being blamed on magic users. Even with the school here in Zadash, there seemed to be a lack of understanding to the workings of the arcane. Tensions must be high if Pumat was warning him about the safety of being on the streets; or more specifically, of Mollymauk being on the streets. Which would mean it was equally unsafe for Jester…

He looked around for Molly, finding him not too far away in between Pumat’s shop and where the other three were gathering loosely together. He turned to make his way toward the Tiefling, thoughts still upon his conversation with Pumat and the oddness of the city’s current culture.

He was barely two steps past the thin alleyway between the Invulnerable Vagrant and the others when hands grabbed his shoulders, dragging him backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ich habe dich auch vermisst = I missed you too
> 
> Little bit of awkward. Cuz, Pumat and Caleb both be the Assembly trained type and just, yeah.


	46. Chapter 46

Caleb stumbled, dropping the new purchases as he tried to keep his balance. That proved to be counterproductive, as he then tripped over the bundle as it rolled between his feet. Caleb fell backward, knocking the other person off balance. Both of them fell to the ground, Caleb on top of the larger form until they rolled over, the attacker getting to his knees without releasing the mage. Two other humans in earth brown clothing, patched and dirty, surrounded the two on the ground trying to help their companion to his feet, dragging them both toward the alley in the process.

Caleb took in a short breath before a calloused hand wrapped over his mouth, muffling any sound. He struggled against the hold, succeeding in little more than knocking his attacker off balance again as he tried to get up. The man fell heavily onto Caleb, elbow jabbing into the mage’s ribs sharply.

Frumpkin had fallen from his shoulders during the struggles, yowling and tumbling on the ground. One of the men kicked at the hissing fey cat, narrowly missing Frumpkin. The cat dodged between his feet, shrieking feline rage as he clawed his way up the man’s leg.

Molly turned hearing the cat’s yowl and was not at all expecting to be met with the sight of three rag-tag men dragging a struggling mage across the dirt toward an alleyway. Wordless fury filled him as he snarled, lunging toward them. He didn’t know where they hell they came from, and he couldn’t care less at the moment.

At least they were all scrambling to get back on their feet instead of dragging the wizard silently off who knew where.

"It's the demon!"

"Kill it!"

“Friggin- ain’t a cat, it’s onna his imps!”

A fourth man came out of the alley, dressed differently than the others. Rather than plain clothes, he wore simple leather armor, a cross bow in his hands. He aimed the weapon at the approaching Teifling, standing in front of the two wrestling to get the mage on his feet and the third fending off an angry cat.

A short twang sounded, Molly jerking back and stumbling to one knee as a crossbow bolt sank into his shoulder. He hissed furious, one hand holding the injury as he snarled a curse at the one responsible, distantly recognizing him as the man from the bar. Flames licked up the attacker's torso, the man panicking and flailing to put them out.

"Let's go, you idiot. We tryin to help you." The one holding Caleb hissed at the mage, righting himself and trying to drag Caleb onto his feet while backing away from Molly.

"Caleb!" Molly shouted out to the mage, forcing himself to his feet.

Caleb’s expression went blank and cold at the barked sound of his name. He stopped struggling against the man’s hold, instead twisting so he faced him, lips moving as he muttered a short incantation.

That couldn't possibly be good. Caleb was so conditioned to just silently take anything they did to him, it was somehow easy to forget just how _dangerous_ he could be. The battle back at Gandre came to mind, Caleb’s expression now a near mirror image.

Molly swore to himself, ripping the bolt from his shoulder and shouting for Jester.

Fire swirling in Caleb’s hand for a moment before the archmage extended his arm and it flung the few inches to ignite the clothing on the man still griping his arm and shoulder. The man screamed, releasing Caleb and falling back as the flames resisted his attempts to put them out.

“He’s one of em!” One of the men screeched, stumbling back as another ball of flame barely missed him. Another sphere of fire scorched one of the attackers, all four of them stepping further away from the mage.

Jester, Beau and Yasha were already close by, alerted by the shouts and sounds of a fight; Jester moved to Molly while Beau and Yasha headed toward the others.

The man with the crossbolt had managed to reload, aiming it at the mage currently responsibly for his friends screams. Caleb waved his hand, barking a word as the bolt flew toward him. A shimmer of arcane energy surrounded him, the bolt deflecting and sinking into the dirt next to him.

On his feet now, Caleb reached into his components back, retrieving a white string. He backed away a few steps, weaving the string around his fingers as he spoke the incantation. Arcane energy gathered between his hands as the string began to glow like hot coals as the cat’s cradle took shape.

“Caleb, enough!” Beau barked out, sliding to a stop beside him. “They’re just farmers!”

Caleb obeyed instantly, the flames on the man dying out and the glow fading from the string in his hands. He released the spell he had been weaving, letting the arcane energy evaporate into nothing. He tucked the string back in his bag, folding his arms behind him obediently as he waited.

Beau reached out to grab Caleb’s shoulder, pushing him towards Molly and Jester as she glared at the three standing farmers and the one currently moaning in pain in the dirt. “What the _hell_? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t just deal with you myself?”

“They’re demon’s, can’t you see!? Corrupting that one, he’s possessed, you shoulda seen him.”

“Call the guards! They’ll deal with that vermin!” The man with the cross bow hissed. “Ain’t no place in our city for murdering demons or their servants!”

Molly glared at them in unbridled fury, stepping infront of Caleb and blocking the mage from their view. True, they hadn’t been specifically targeting Caleb… but he’d had enough of seeing the mage hurt. And over something so stupid as this? Because these idiots saw a Tiefling and immediately though, oh yes, the demon _must_ be torturing the poor kidnapped human.

Gods, could they not go _five minutes_?! Caleb had been doing so much better even after the shit show yesterday, and now this? The wizard’s expression was so neutral; a blank slate waiting for orders, his breath almost carefully even as he looked ahead.

They hadn’t even **done** anything and these idiots were attacking them, fucking up what should have been a perfectly good morning.

“He’s not possessed, you idiot, he’s a mage!” Beau snapped. “It’s fucking magic!”

Yasha glared at them, hand on her blade as she stalked forward in silent support of Beauregard.

“Magic or not magic. He’s one of them, belongs to that one and the blue she-devil!” One of the snarled, pointing over to Jester. The cleric was glaring petulantly at the farmers, stooping to pick up a scruffed up looking Frumpkin.

“Demon’s musta stole em from the academy!” Another shouted, helping up the scorched (but no longer on fire) friend from the ground. “It’s what they do! Take a person and eat their soul, turn em into monsters! You saw him, he-“

“Is there a problem here?”

The group looked over as a crown guard approached. Beau narrowed her eyes, gearing up for a fight.

“Beau…” The monk glanced at Yasha as she whispered her name, following her gaze toward Molly and Jester. Caduceus and Nott had joined them around Caleb, but Fjord was nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah.” She said bluntly, rolling her shoulders as she forced herself to relax into something a little less aggressive. “These guys attacked us.”

“Those demons are dangerous! They’ve already stolen and corrupted that mage!” The crossbowman yelled.

“Enough!” The crowns guard told them all. “All of you go home. These people will be out of the city today, I can promise you that.”

“But sir, that dem-.”

“Unless you want to join them, I suggest you leave.”

The farmer narrowed his eyes, glancing between the crowns guard and Beau suspiciously. The other three traded glances as well, looking between Beauregard and the disguised Fjord.

“Oh for…” Molly growled, losing his patience. They were leaving the damn city today, probably as soon as these idiots left. With Caleb now safely surrounded by Caduceus, Jester, and Nott; Molly stalked up toward the other group. They wanted a demon, he’d _give_ them a demon.

He drew one of his blades, drawing it across his chest as he activated the rite and set the blade aflame. “ ** _Leave. All of you, before you don’t leave at all_**.” He snarled the only thing he could come up with in Infernal, stalking toward them threateningly.

Whether it was the guttural snarled words, the blood trickling slowly down his front, or the flaming blade; Molly didn’t care. All he did care about was the four of them were soon scrambling over themselves to run as fast as they could in the opposite direction. He sneered at their retreating backs, extinguishing his sword and sliding it back into its scabbard.

“Molly…” The image of the crowns guard slid away to reveal Fjord’s half-orc form. He couldn’t complain too much, but still. He shook his head, watching Beau snatch up the packages Caleb had dropped.

“What? It wasn’t like what you were doing was working…” Molly grumbled, frowning and crossing his arms. His tail lashed irritably behind him as he glared at the now empty alley. He sighed in annoyance, turning to stalk back towards Caleb and the others. “Would you have preferred they call your bluff? Turn this into an actual fight?”

“There has got to be an easier way to get convince people to get lost…” Fjord muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“They will probably go find a real guard.” Yasha advised, hand still on her blade as she glanced where they men had run off.

“Yasha’s right.” Fjord agreed. “We should probably get going.”

“Not sure if that’s such a great idea right now.” Beau cautioned, nodding toward Caleb.

The group had moved to the side street Beau had scouted out earlier, but the mage was still wearing an expression Beau recognized. Even knowing Caleb, it still grated on her nerves. That cold disinterest, like everything that met his gaze was unimportant or didn’t exist at all.

Even Jester’s gently attempts to get him to take Frumpkin from her weren’t working. It was like the wizard had just shut down. His attention would shift whenever his name was spoken, but Beauregard was pretty sure making something an actual order was about the only thing going to get through to him right now.

“Well we can’t wait _here_.” Nott argued. “Even if we disguise ourselves, what if they come back with a mage?”

“I’m not saying we stay here, but Caleb can cast that spell anywhere, so maybe we just leave and when he… you know…” Beau trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Caleb wasn’t all there right now, but he’d snap out of it eventually (she hoped) and he could cast the teleportation spell.

“He’s right there, Beau, you don’t have to talk about him like he’s not.” Jester complained, frustrated and upset as she hugged Frumpkin to herself.

“Why don’t we go wait at the Invulnerable Vagrant?” Caduceus interrupted, physically stepping in between Jester and Beau. He didn’t trust them to pay attention to just his words with how angry all of them were becoming. The situation was nobody’s fault, there was no reason for them to argue. “If they return, they won’t find us.”

They fell silent for a moment, sharing a look around before agreeing.

“Wonderful.” Caduceus nodded, setting off toward the shop. He made sure to avoid the alley way, going the long way around to approach the Invulnerable Vagrant from the other side.

Nott took a swig from her flask before reaching up to take one of Caleb’s hands carefully in her own, leading the mage forward. Jester stayed beside him, watching him with worried eyes and once more asking if he would like to hold Frumpkin with no response.

Yasha took up a position behind the group, fiercely watching the few spectators that still stood watching the group thanks to the earlier disturbance. Molly stayed as close to Caleb as he could with Nott and Jester on either side of the wizard. Fjord caught up with and kept pace beside Caduceus, Beau tagging along a few steps behind and keeping an eye on Caleb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beau accidentally saving all the attackers from being incinerated in Widogast Web of Fire spell.
> 
> *shrugs*


	47. Chapter 47

The two Pumat’s were still at the counter as they group all piled through the door. They looked up, both smiling good naturedly as they greeted the Mighty Nine. “Why hello there, and welcome.”

“Oh, I see you two are back- Oh, my. What happened?” One of the Pumat’s asked, drawing back in surprise when he saw the blood on Molly as the Teifling entered.

“Oh, Pumat.” Jester spoke, shaking her head and sighing as she walked over to the counter. “You are not going to _believe_ what just happened! These guys jumped out and tried to _kidnap Caleb_!” Her voice pitched up high in distressed emphasis, cuddling Frumpkin again.

“Mind if we hang out here for a minute?” Beau asked. “We’ll stay outta the way, might even buy something.”

“Oh, well, I suppose-“

“Great!” Beau interrupted, giving him a grin and stepping forward to clap Pumat on the shoulder. “You won’t even know we’re here.”

“Actually, it will be a good thing if _no one_ know’s we’re here.” Nott piped up, joining Beau and Pumat, looking up at the tall Firbolg. “They were making some wild accusations about Molly and Jester and we think they went to get some guards.”

“Oh, I don’t know about-“

“We didn’t do anything. And nobody died, so they’re not really searching really…” Molly said, having moved close to Caleb’s side once Jester had moved away. “Caleb was going to cast a teleportation spell but… He needs a minute, if you could help us out?”

“We would appreciate it, make it worth your time?” Fjord offered.

“I suppose, if you were to want to see some of our older inventory while you shop, the loft up there is out of the way.” Pumat agreed slowly, nodding toward the back of the store. There was a ladder leading up to a small loft; a few stacks of boxes slightly visible.

“Oh, thank you Pumat!” Jester said in relieved happiness. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything that happened!”

Pumat nodded, leading the way and leaving the second Pumat at the counter, apparently intent on joining them as he climbed the ladder first. Beau went up next, helping him shift some of the boxes and other items around carefully.

Yasha took up a spot behind the ladder, leaning lightly against a sturdy shelf and crossing her arms and stating simply. “I will keep watch from here.”

The rest of them hesitated for a moment, each wondering how to get Caleb up there. It was a little different than him just following them, and he still wasn’t reacting to anything. Beau solved the problem a moment later, peering down at them.

“Caleb.” She called out to the mage, continuing as he lifted his face to stare at her blankly. “Get up here.”

Molly grimaced, but supposed he couldn’t argue with results. He followed the mage up, Fjord and Jester right behind him. Caduceus and Nott elected to stay on the first floor with Yasha. The goblin pulled her hood up, somehow finding a way to vanish from sight as Caduceus joined the other Pumat at the counter.

~~

Caleb drifted in a thin fog of his own, letting the words of the others wash over him, attentive only for the tone that indicated an order was being given. He did not like harming people, did not want to watch them writhing in agony, screaming as he carried out his orders. Caleb had never liked that.

He knew too well what it felt like to be hurt, for the pain to drag on and on with no end in sight.

There was really only one outcome for those who dared attack and damage property of the crown. Master Ikithon had taught him that much. And the Mighty Nine were important, else Beauregard would not carry the King’s symbol, so why would they react any different?

He closed himself off, retreating further at the sound of screams, the scent of burnt flesh. His body knew the motions, the words to the spells… Beauregard interrupted the spell that would have ended it. Caleb may have been relieved, the distant part of him that still felt, had he not been certain worse would be asked of him soon. The enemy had surrendered; what other reason for accepting was there than to question them. Actions and consequences.

He waited, but no orders followed.

They spoke his name, asked questions, made gentle suggestions. None were the stern orders he expected, that orders he waited for. They moved him and he followed, obeyed the order when it finally came, simplistic as it was. And then they left him alone.

They were still with him; Mollymauk nearly curled against Caleb’s left side with an expression that just _dared_ anyone to tell him to move. Beauregard sat at his right, leaning with the barest pressure against his shoulder, her attention focused on a soft conversation with Fjord.

They ignored him though, soft voices luring him from the far reaches of his mind. There was no pain, no anger, just… calm.

“Still don’t know what the hell they were thinking.” Beau was saying. “Seriously. What was the plan there? Drag him off to be purified or some shit?”

“Lucky we showed up when we did, didn’t look like you were having any luck talking them out of trying again…” Fjord snorted.

“I wasn’t trying to talk them out of anything. I was threating to kick their asses. Would have served them right if I hadn’t stopped Caleb.” Beau grumbled.

“Wouldn’t have served them anything, I don’t think there would have been much left.” Molly commented lazily.

“True.” Beau agreed easily. “We’d probably be dealing with guards that actually cared, with a light show like that. Wouldn’t be so easy to get them to move one.”

“Informing the guards that they had attacked or damaged property of the crown would likely be sufficient for them to leave it be. Such has worked in the past.” Caleb offered, voice far too monotone for any of their comfort. Still, he was speaking, was tracking their conversation and offering an opinion.

Beau and Fjord glanced at each other. It was a twisted and disturbing idea, all the more because Caleb was basically saying that had been said about him before and it had _worked_. Between Fjord disguising himself as a crowns guard and Beau’s symbol of King Dwendal, it would also probably be the most convincing lie they would ever tell, if they went down that road. But what a fucked up message to send to Caleb…

“Thanks Caleb, but I don’t think I can do that.” Fjord replied gently.

Beau nodded agreement. “Yeah. You’re not property.”

Caleb’s gaze drifted down to his lap, unsure what to think of that declaration. He… was though, wasn’t he? He was a product of the Assembly, of Master Ikithon’s tutelage, as he had been told many times. Yet this was not the first time they had expressed displeasure at the idea.

“Caleb, are you okay?” Molly asked in a concerned tone.

“Ja, ah… y-yes, Mollymauk.” Caleb replied, one arm curling softly around his chest nervously as he lifted his gaze to the Tiefling. “I am sorry for-.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Caleb.” Fjord interrupted firmly. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Ca-leb!” Jester cried out happily, abandoning a discussion (aka her filling the enchanter in on _everything_ so far) with Pumat to fling herself in between them all. “Ohmgosh are you alright? Here! Here! He was a little scruffy and dirty, but I brushed his fur for you and he’s okay now too, do you want to hold him?”

Caleb tensed, pulling back at the overflow of words and emotions coming from the cleric. He had no idea how to process the sudden exuberance, simply stared at her wide eyed for a moment before focusing on Frumpkin as she held the cat toward him. He realized she had made that offer more than once after the short battle and he felt guilty for not having answered her before.

“Give him some room to breathe, Jester.” Molly chided her.

“Oh, come on, Molly.” Jester complained, giving the blood hunter an annoyed look. “You’ve been sitting _right there_ this whole time, why don’t y-ouuu-u give him some room.”

Molly’s flushed a darker violet as he looked away, Jester smirking in victory. Caleb’s could feel his own face heating as well, carefully accepting Frumpkin and distracting himself by curling the feline close to his chest.

“Ah- t-thank you, Jester…” He stammered out, reigning in the urge to reach out as Molly slid away from him. He knew he shouldn’t, but he missed the warmth of the Tiefling almost immediately.

Beau stood up, moving over to a railing and looking down to the floor below. “Hey. Nott, Yash, Cad. Come on up here.” She turned to lean her back gently against the wooden railing, crossing her arms as she looked at the rest of them. “Jester can fill you guys in on what Essek told her, then we should get outta Pumat’s way I guess?”

Fjord nodded in agreement, making way as the other three joined them. Nott skipped past Fjord and Jester, claiming the spot beside Caleb that Beau had previously been seated at. With Yasha and Caduceus, it was soon very crowded, but none of them wanted to ask Caleb to get up and move to the more open space on the floor below,

“Jester?” Fjord prompted once they were all relatively comfortable.

Jester opted to sit cross legged in the center of the group, glancing cheekily between Caleb and Molly before turning to Fjord as he spoke her name. “Oh, yes. Of course! I asked Essek about the whole trading of dignitaries or whatever, and he said that he’d heard of the rumor from his informants, but there wasn’t any invitations send to the Bright Queen, her den, or any of them.”

“So, it’s a ploy then.” Fjord stated.

“Why though?” Nott questioned. “As a way to get close to the King, it doesn’t make much sense. As we’ve just been reminded, the Empire doesn’t trust anyone from Xhorhas.”

“Or anyone not human.” Beau muttered. She glanced over at Pumat, offering a shrugged apology. “Sorry.”

“Exactly.” Nott continued. “And there’s going to be guards _everywhere_ at the celebration.”

“Many- ah, many guards were- were taken from the… the students of the academy.” Caleb ventured, curling around Frumpkin and keeping his gaze down as the others looked his direction. The did not correct him for speaking, did not even seem upset, so he continued. “Ah. T-that was… at least, Master Ikithon had- had said as much in the last weeks of fighting.”

“So maybe the ruse is to get the rest on his side? When things go down?” Beau guessed. “And having all of us there give him a nice visible scapegoat. You don’t get much more Xhorhasian than some of us.”

Molly frowned, one clawed nail tapping on his knee in agitation. It was annoying, but Beau was right. If today didn’t just completely prove how _well_ that would probably work for Trent… Bunch of rumors had gotten simple farmers up in arms enough to attack them. What would a public attempt on the King’s life do? And if it succeeded…

“You’re talking about that Trent Ikithon fellow?” Pumat asked from the corner.

The Nine all looked over at him, having nearly forgotten he was even there.

“Yeah, you know him?” Beau asked warily.

“Well, gosh, it’s been probably ten or more years since I saw him in person. He’s a real character.” Pumat explained, looking uneasy.

“Caleb told us Trent and Oremid used to be friends.” Fjord spoke up, shifting to face the Firbolg. “Something about a difference of opinion, back before the war started.”

Pumat shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that. But this Trent. Be careful around him. He always gave me a bad feeling. Gets inside your head.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Fjord agreed, brow furrowed in thought. “But we’ve taken up enough of your time, and again, we can’t thank you enough.”

“You all sound like you’ve got some important work to do, it’s the least _I_ could do to help.” Pumat replied, shaking his head.

Fjord nodded again, looking across at the others. There was a general unspoken agreement, all of the getting up and making their way to the main floor below. Jester disguised herself as human, going out the shop and checking the coast was clear first.

She gave the rest of them a thumbs up, leading the way outside. They moved to the back side of Pumat’s shop, Beau and Yasha standing watch as Caleb started drawing the sigils from Dairon’s parchment for the teleportation circle. Before long, the symbols drawn glowed with arcane light, alerting the others the spell was active. One by one, they stepped through, the circle going dark as the last of them vanished, wind blending the chalk with the dirt of the streets.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about skipping back in time and following Trent and what he has been up to but.... then I thought... *spoilers*. 
> 
> So I didn't.

The basement of the Rexxentrum Archive of the Cobalt Soul was well lit, a smooth expanse of warm grey stone. The permanently engraved teleportation circle on the floor glowed as the Mighty Nine arrived, one by one appearing in a flash of arcane light. The room around them was simple and bare but for a couple tapestries covering two walls. They stood in silence for a moment as they last of the arcane energy dissipated.

The double wooden doors opened soon after their arrival, two guards in Cobalt Soul attire entering with weapons drawn. Beau stepped forward, hands held up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. None of us knew anyone here to actually message you for a heads up we were coming.”

“Then who are you and what is your business here?” One of the guards asked, looking a little confused but still on guard.

“I’m Expositor Beauregard. Dairon gave me the teleportation symbols, so you can check with her about it. Is Zeenoth still in charge around here?” Beau explained shortly.

“Yes, but-“

“Look, just go get Zeenoth.” Beau interrupted briskly. “I’ll explain what’s going on to him, and only him, then we’ll get out of your way and you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

The two guards shared a look, then one of them let out a sharp sigh of irritation. “Wait here.”

Beauregard resisted the urge to smirk. She recognized that sigh, her reputation preceded her. Or stayed behind after her. She hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends here in Rexxentrum, but at least it was enough the didn’t want to stand around arguing with her about it.

The other guard remained behind, standing at the door and watching them closely. Beau ignored him, shifted back toward where the others had waited in patient stillness. It was weird for them to be so quiet, especially Jester and Nott, but Caleb was looking a few steps past nervous and Beau guessed they were trying to keep things calm.

“So, what’s the plan? Find somewhere to stay, go investigating?” Nott asked in a hushed whisper. She glanced over at Jester, the cleric grinning and starting to nod.

“Actually, I was hoping we could stay here…” Beau suggested.

“ _Here?_ ” Nott asked incredulously, attention turned back to Beau. She tossed a glanced toward Caleb, the mage looking very nervous at the suggestion. She lowered her tone back to a whisper.

“Beau, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No. But we don’t want-.” Beau stopped, lowering her voice even quieter with a short glance at the guard. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here just yet. The less we’re seen around town, or even maybe hinted that all of us are here, the better.”

“She’s got a point.” Fjord agreed.

“Look, they’ve got plenty of dorms here, we just might be a little cramped. And _no one_ is going to mess with you, I promise.” Beau continued, directing the last bit toward Caleb.

Caleb nodded agreement along with the rest of them, wary about residing within the Cobalt Soul. What few interactions he’d had with the monks so far had not been pleasant, but he had little choice. It wasn’t like he could refuse.

“Beauregard…” Caleb spoke lowly, giving a short glance at Mollymauk beside him before stepping toward her. “Are… ah, are there any rules here? As there were at the ah, the valley archives?”

“Rules?” Beauregard gave him a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”

Caleb hesitated, acutely aware of their attention on him and no longer sure if he should be asking. Yet he did not want a repeat of what had happened at the Archive in Zadash. “Y-you had said, at- at the Cobalt Soul in Z-zadash, ah, not… not to touch anything, and- and to stay with the others. I, ah… did- did you wish for me to follow the same rules here as well?”

“ _What_?” Beau repeated, struggling to reign in her tone. “Okay, first of all, _no_. Molly told you we don’t have rules for you to follow. You don’t- We don’t own you, okay?”

Caleb glanced at Mollymauk at Beauregard’s words, uncertain.

“We really don’t. Slavery hasn’t been legal here for a while and we’re not looking to bring it back.” Molly said gently, brow furrowed in concern.

“It’s not- That is not what-.” Caleb had never heard it put quite in those terms before it and it was unsettling. He wasn’t a… a slave. That was-

He owed the Cerberus Assembly, everything he was and all his abilities were due to them, he served because of that. They had given him to the Nine, so they owned that debt. It was little different than being given a mission to carry out, only more long term. There was a tight curl of frustration in his stomach, a want to deny the sentiment.

“The Academy trained me, bore the cost of my living, my skills are theirs to use. They gave me to you. It… it isn’t…” He argued quietly, tone soft even through the anxiety, the near panted draw of breath.

“Caleb, how many other mages do you know? How many of them have to follow all those rules Trent gave you, how many aren’t allowed to make mistakes?” Molly asked, hoping he wasn’t completely mistaken in thinking (wishing really) that not all the mages lived like Caleb had. If he could convince him that what had been done to the mage was _wrong_ , maybe he would believe them when they said they wouldn’t do the same.

“The King trains and houses his soldiers, but he doesn’t own them.” Molly continued gently when Caleb just looked at him in confusion. “The Assembly shouldn’t get to own you just because they trained you.”

“Is this really the best place for this conversation?” Fjord interjected carefully, grimacing at the twin glares from Molly and Beau. “We’ll talk about it, I know we need to, but should I remind you we have an audience?”

“But-.” Molly began to argue, Beauregard cutting him off quickly.

“Fjord’s right. Not here. Caleb, you can do whatever you want, and we will all back you up on it.”

Beau’s attention turned from the wizard as the door to the chamber opened, as requested a familiar monk entering alone, the guard leaving as he arrived. Archivist Zeenoth was a delicate-looking elven male, his blonde hair shoulder length and slightly curled. His eyes skimmed over the group, focusing on Beauregard as she stepped forward. “Expositor Beauregard.”

“Zeenoth. Took your time.” Beau replied gruffly, one hand on her hip as she looked at him.

“I was not aware any of your number had the ability to utilize the circle.” Zeenoth said, tone expectant.

“Dairon gave me the symbols for the teleportation circle.” Beau explained, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Same old Zeenoth. “Caleb’s new, he does the spells.”

“Widowgast? Why am I not surprised.” Zeenoth said wryly as his attention turned toward Caleb. He stopped short from saying anything further, one brow raising at the immediate result of his shifted attention.

The mage drew in a short breath, shoulders tensing as his gaze skirted to the side. It was the movements of the rest of the Nine that caught the archivist by surprise; Beau sliding an inch to the side to place herself slightly in front of the wizard, Yasha shifting further apart from the group to have a clear line of sight on Zeenoth, both Tieflings stepping beside the mage and carefully guiding him back a step. Zeenoth couldn’t see what Nott was doing, but he held carefully still presuming she was just as defensive as the rest.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Got a problem.” Beau demanded.

“It means, that whatever reason you have for coming here, it’s no surprise you managed to get Empire’s most powerful archmage to assist you. You always did seem to have a way of getting what you want.” Zeenoth answered carefully.

Beau gave him an appraising look, glancing over at Caduceus for a second opinion. Caduceus gave a shallow nod and only then did Beau relax. She didn’t see anything wrong or suspicious about Zeenoth’s statement, neither did Cad, and that was good enough for her.

“We just came from Zadash. Thing’s are a little tense there with the locals.” Beau took the lead in the conversation, the rest of the Nine just watching. None of them moved from their defensive stance around the wizard. “They had guards and mages checking everyone at the gate. They’ve shut the academy down and Dairon looks a little ragged over at the Archives.”

“The King has implemented as much here at the gates, but the people seem to be taking to it with good grace. So far as I am aware, there have been no restrictions placed on the Cerberus Assembly nor the academy here. Attentions are more upon preparation for the celebration. I presume that is why you have come?” Zeenoth asked.

“Sort of. We’ve got a lead on something planned against the King. It might be an inside job, so we need to stay out of sight so that no one knows we’re in Rexxentrum.” Beau explained, trying to be as subtle as she could and not give away too much information. Dairon might have been an ass, but Beau thought she was probably right about a lot of things. Especially the whole ‘not knowing who to trust’, though personally Beau though Zeenoth was about as trustworthy as they could get here. “We can deal with disguises when we need to be out and about but finding a place to stay would be a little harder.”

“Few groups of adventurers run in as great a number as you.” Zeenoth agreed.

“Exactly. And we can’t risk word getting around.” Beau told him. Being here with ready access to the Library and close to the palace didn’t hurt either.

“If you can disguise yourselves now, I can bring you to one of the emptier dormitories.” Zeenoth sighed.

Beau turned to Caleb. “Jester, Fjord, and Nott can all disguise themselves, and I know you’ve cast the same kind of thing before. Can you get everyone else? Make us all look like a bunch of random humans, with the Cobalt Soul uniform?”

“Ah, yes, I can- the, ah, the spell can affect all of us, if- if you wish?” Caleb replied, gaze trained on the floor in front of him.

“Oh, make me-“

“As non-descript as you can.” Fjord interrupted Jester before she could make any requests. “The point is to not be noticed Jester.”

Caleb nodded, feeling somewhat regretful at Jester’s unhappy huff of breath. He though about offering Frumpkin for her to hold, the fey cat still lay comfortably around his shoulders, but he was unwilling to draw attention to Frumpkin. Instead, he thought of the trainee monk’s uniforms, the various physicality they normally possessed, and traced a symbol in the air as he spoke the short incantation.

A moment later, each of the group bore the image of a human monk; even Beauregard’s features and robes changed. He hoped their appearance fit into the ‘non-descript’ request from Fjord. He picked Frumpkin up from around his shoulders, reluctantly setting the cat on the ground. Until the seeming spell was dropped, Frumpkin would have to walk. At least they had not requested he send his friend away.

Zeenoth inspected them all for a moment before nodding in approval. “That will do. If you would, follow me.”

Zeenoth led the out of the teleportation room, guiding them though the bare hallways and up a flight of stairs to the main floor of the Cobalt Soul. A few more turns later and they entered the main archive library. Caleb was very glad the seeming spell was not one he needed to maintain concentration on as the sight of such an impressive array of books dispelled all other thoughts from his mind. Frumpkin butted his head against the back of Caleb’s ankle, reminding the archmage to keep following along with the others.

The walk through the library was short, Zeenoth leading them toward the back and out to toward the training grounds and dormitories of the younger monks still in training. There were four short multi-level domed towers that stood in scattered formation across from the large cerulean domed building that was the main library. On the other side of the towers lay the Tangles, a medium class neighborhood of Rexxentrum.

“We had some recent graduates and a few who left.” Zeenoth explained, opening the door to the left most tower. “Until the King’s celebration is ended, the Cobalt Soul is not accepting new trainees and I will have those within reassigned different quarters.”

“Thanks, Zeenoth.” Beau said gruffly, earning a surprised glance from the elf. “We won’t stay too long.”

He nodded in silent acceptance, leading them to the second floor. “You will find sleeping quarters here as well as a general common area. If there are any personal effects, someone will be by within the next hour or so to collect them for the owners.”

With that, the door closed behind the Archivist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there!!!


	49. Chapter 49

They explored the dormitories for a while, none of them wanted to start any in depth conversations when they would be interrupted soon. The individual rooms were small, each holding only a bed. It was almost familiar to Caleb, a reflection of his quarters when he’d been taken in by Master Ikithon and the room he had always created for himself in his arcane mansion.

There were even enough individual sleeping rooms that they would not need to share. For a moment, Caleb felt almost disappointed; a feeling he quickly pushed aside. It was foolish to be so attached to Molly, he did not deserve the gentleness he'd been given so far.

The main common room was hardly any better, just an empty floor with some training equipment and mats for meditation. It was less of a place to live and occupy, the dormitory simply used for rest until the trainees left for other duties or training.

There were few enough personal effects, those in the quarters not unpacked and likely belonged to newer members of the Cobalt Soul. It took nearly two hours, but the promised monks came to collect the items of some of the students who had been staying on that floor.

Once they had left, Fjord let out a sigh.

“Right.” Fjord began once the other monks had come and gone. “Caleb, how long will this illusion you cast last on us?”

“Ah, roughly five more hours.” Caleb answered. “Would you, ah… would you like me to dismiss the effect?”

“No, no. Not just yet.” Fjord said, shaking his head. “We’ve probably got a few hours of daylight left, we should take advantage of the spell, see what the mood on the street is.”

“It is, ah, about three hours past midday.” Caleb offered, attempting to be helpful.

“Now, how could you possibly know that?” Fjord questioned, sounding both impressed and doubtful.

“I- I just do.” Caleb responded nervously, looking down and picking at the bandages on his arms. He was unsure how to interpret the warlock’s tone. “I have always… I- I am sorry, should I not-?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… surprising is all.” Fjord said dismissively, waving a hand as he glanced around at the others. “Do we want to talk about where to go next?”

“Essek had said the whole ambassador thing was fake, right? So, we should look for someone that’s going to be pretending to be that person.” Beau suggested.

“I can ask the Wildmother for guidance, some direction on where we should start our search.” Caduceus suggested.

“Beats just wandering out on the streets.” Molly agreed, glancing over at Jester as she dug around in her pack.

“Jester and I could go out and do some… investigating.” Nott offered, meeting Jester’s gaze when the cleric looked up at her. “We are really great detectives, we could crack this case in no time.”

“Caleb, I’ve changed my mind, definitely drop the spell.” Fjord joked, chuckling at Jester and Nott as they each gave him an affronted glare.

“Of course.” Caleb agreed immediately, tracing a symbol in the air with one hand as he tugged at the arcane energy holding the seeming spell in place. It was easy to unravel, the human forms fading in an instance to reveal the regular visage of the Mighty Nine.

“Fjord!” Nott scolded, shaking her head.

“Aw, man, Fjord! Now look what you did!” Jester complained.

“Wha- No, I didn’t mean to-“ Fjord sputtered out, looking equal parts guilty, frustrated, and perplexed.

Caleb lowered his hand slowly, glancing anxiously between them. He had not meant to displease them by obeying Fjord, had only been trying to do as told. Fjord was so much more intimidating, so unknown, the choice was clear even after the fact. Jester would… probably not discipline him, nor Nott. Fjord… he did not know.

“Looks like we’re sticking around here for a while.” Beau snorted, finding a spot on one of the mats. The monk grinned up at Yasha as she came to settle next to her.

“Hey, Caleb, you got any magical locks?” Beau tossed out the question to Caleb. “These doors don’t lock at all, that main one anyway and I don’t think we want visitors.”

“Ah… Yes, Beauregard.” Caleb replied, anxiety tight in his stomach.

Obediently, Caleb turned and walked over to the door, hand shaking as he touched the wood and let the arcane energy hold to the door, sealing the room. He tried to believe what they had said before, tried not to be afraid, but everything in him said he had done something wrong. He should not have spoken out of turn, he should have done better creating the illusions on each of them, he should not have dropped the illusion so soon, he should not have shown such weakness in front of the Archivist… So much he had failed at, so much he deserved correction for.

“Feeling nostalgic yet?” Molly grinned, tossing a glance at Beau as he watched Jester drawing an interesting looking picture on one of the punching bags.

“Oh, please. Like I’d miss this place.” Beau snarked. She propped her chin on one palm, frowning as she glanced over at Caleb who was looking very pale and tense as he returned to where he had originally been standing.

Jester saw it too apparently, because she abandoned her art, skipping over to the mage and picking Frumpkin up along the way.

“It’s okay, Caleb. You don’t have to be scared, no one is mad or anything.” Jester told him patiently, carefully placing the cat into his arms. “Everyone’s just going to get all comfy and we’ll figure out what we’re going to do, and we’ll talk about some stuff, and them maybe, you know, you can cast that disguise spell again and we can go out and see what’s going on out in the city.”

“Of… course.” Caleb replied haltingly, staring at Jester in wide eyed confusion.

Beau leaned forward, smirking at Jester. “If anything’s scary it’s your ability to talk without taking a breath.”

“Caleb’s not scared of _meeee_.” Jester retorted sassily, glancing at Caleb briefly. “Are you Caleb.”

“No. Ah, no.. I- I did not say that I was not- Ah, I- I mean...”

“Jester! Stop teasing Caleb.” Nott interrupted them, frowning at the cleric with her hands on her hips. “And don’t you start snickering Beauregard, you’re just as bad!”

“Oh, come on, Nott…” Beau complained.

Molly shook his head at them, but was glad for the interruption to whatever Caleb was saying. It was almost painful- No scratch that. It _was_ painful hearing Caleb trying to deny that he _wasn’t_ afraid of one of them. Like not being scared was a bad thing.

It made Molly wonder how Caleb had ever kept anything straight with Trent. He was supposed to be afraid of him, fear consequences and punishment, but still obey every order and keep an outward appearance of formality. And let’s not forget the ever present threat of a solid beating should he fail or break a rule. How the mage had kept it together for so long, Molly had no idea.

It was a testament to his strength of will that was for sure.

Maybe one day, when he wasn’t worried Caleb would feel obligated to answer, he’d ask him how he’d done it.

“Hey Caleb, would Trent expect an update? Like, where we are and when you’d show up with us?” Beau asked suddenly, turning from her joking argument between Jester and Nott in order to look over at the mage.

“Ah, n-no.” Caleb replied, meeting her gaze long enough she knew he was telling the truth, but looked down soon after. “The- the only reason I would, ah, would message him is if I- I knew I would… or- or had already, failed the, ah, t-the mission.”

“The mission being to bring us to Rexxentrum.”

“J-ja…”

Caleb’s reply was soft, almost unsure, and Beau lifted an eyebrow. “He didn’t have any _other_ missions for you to do, did he?”

“I- I didn’t…”

“Hey.” Molly spoke up as Caleb went quiet with a small shiver. “We know you didn’t have any choice, so whatever he wanted you to do, it’s fine, we’ll handle it.”

Frumpkin meowed, twisting to look up at Caleb, though the wizard barely reacted beyond curling him close to his chest.

“He’s right, Caleb. Like I said before. You didn’t have a choice and I won’t be mad either way. We just need to know.” Beauregard added carefully, leaning slightly against Yasha.

Caleb hunched his shoulders, shrinking in on himself as he answered slowly. “He… My- my orders were just… just to- to ah, gain your trust and- and wait.”

“That’s pretty vague.” Fjord commented.

“I am sorry…” Caleb spoke quietly.

“It’s fine, Caleb. Really. No one’s going to hurt you.” Molly assured him.

“He’s right.” Fjord agreed when Caleb glanced at him worriedly. He hadn’t done anything, hadn’t meant for the wizard to take his earlier comment as an order, but Fjord still felt guilty. He drew in a slow breath, moving to help Caduceus set up the ritual for speaking to the Wildmother. He was very aware he’d worried the mage and needed a distraction of his own.

Molly grimaced, red gaze roaming across all of them as an awkward silence fell. Nott and Jester were huddled together whispering, planning something that probably amounted to investigating as the ‘detective duo’, and Yasha and Beau seemed content to just sit beside each other. The interrupted conversation from the teleportation room itched at Molly, and he crossed his arms as he tried to casually bring it back up.

“So, Caleb, I asked earlier, but… really though. How many other mages and/or wizards _do_ you know?”

“Ah, I- ah, there is… Eodwulf, Astrid, Headmaster Oremid Hass, Yussa, Headmaster Zivan, and ah, Master Ikithon.” Caleb listed carefully, tension still evident in his form. “I, ah, I have spoken briefly to others, but for little more than- than was- was, ah, required for the mission I had been assigned.”

“You know, you could just call him Trent.” Molly suggested, tone lazy though his gaze was anything but.

Caleb went carefully still, gaze dropping as he let out a slow careful breath. “O-of course, Mollymauk. I- I meant no disrespect.”

He hadn’t even realized… had always referred to Master Ikithon as such. But, of course, they would dislike the term, he was theirs…

_We don’t own you._

“No, Caleb- I didn’t mean it like that.” Molly explained, brow furrowing as he frowned.

He was clearly unhappy, something that made Caleb’s heart race with anxiety even as he tried to believe all the promises he’d been given. It was difficult because he _knew_ that somehow he had displeased the Tiefling, had disappointed him somehow. Everything he had ever learned said there would be consequences for that, there _should_ be consequences.

“Does he scare you?”

Yasha’s gentle question drew Caleb’s attention, the pale woman clarifying as she looked at the hurt expression that briefly crossed Molly’s face. “Trent. Does he scare you?”

Caleb did not know the correct answer to that question.

He could guess what the correct answer _should_ be. This was a group of warriors, famous on both sides of the conflict, what use would they have for a mage scared of one single person. Fear was weakness. Weakness was not tolerated.

Even would such a fear not disgust them, what kind of monster would they think him to be holding anything less that respectful reverence for the one who had practically raised him?

But he could not _lie_ to them. The very though sent ice through his veins, mind skipping back to the consequences of such action doled out by Dairon, and even further back to the much more painful memory of Master Ikithon’s punishments for lies.

Panic clawed at his throat; he knew he was taking too long to answer, nearly as bad as _not_ answering. He wasn’t refusing to answer, he knew better than that. He simply had no answer, none that was acceptable, but there was no way to _tell_ them that without then being forced to explain and that would quickly be followed by one or more of the consequences he already deser-

Claws dug into his shoulder, just shy of painful, as Frumpkin climbed his way up, purring loudly and sticking his nose in Caleb’s ear. Caleb sucked in a breath he hadn’t known he needed, reaching up to steady the cat as Frumpkin curled around his neck.

Yasha was looking stricken, Molly hovering halfway between her and Caleb, torn between who to try and offer some sort of comfort. He started toward Caleb, but quickly backed away as the wizard flinched and Frumpkin let out a brief feline growl.

“You don’t have to answer, Caleb.” Molly offered, joining Yasha and Beau sitting down, trying to be non-threatening.

Caleb breathed slowly, listening to Frumpkin’s rumbling purr in his ears, relieved at being granted permission to remain silent. He didn’t know how to answer the question… Caleb glanced up at Yasha, ready to offer apologies and beg forgiveness for ignoring her inquiry, but his words stopped seeing her expression.

Yasha spoke up the instant their eyes met, tone soft and regretful. “I am sorry, Caleb. I did not mean to upset you. You don’t have to talk about it. If you do not want to.”

“I- I will.” Caleb replied, stepping forward even as his instincts screamed the opposite. She had asked, he should have answered. He jerked hearing a sliding sound, looking over to see Jester and Nott moving a few other mats closer to the rest of them.

“Here Caleb, it’s okay.” Jester said, trying to sound cheerful but Caleb could tell she was stressed.

“Sit, sit.” Nott ordered, firm but not unkind and Caleb’s gaze was drawn to her as his body automatically obeyed. It helped, doing something _right_ for a change, because Nott nodded and settled a foot or so from him as well.

Fjord left Caduceus in the middle of his ritual, taking up a position between the Firbolg and the others. He was close enough to join the conversation, the room was really small enough that Caduceus could join in as well, though the grave cleric was paying less attention than the warlock. Fjord wasn’t looking forward to this conversation, though he’d known it was coming for a while.

Fjord was first to admit, he didn’t know a whole lot about the Cerberus Assembly or how wizards and mages were taught. He’d dreamed of learning magic, exploring his abilities, when he’d first made the contract with his patron, but he’d know the Empire would never accept him. Seeing Caleb now, he was starting to believe he’d dodged a fireball with that one.

Feeling a little awkward, he really didn’t know Caleb all that well, but anything to start the conversation off better than it had _just_ happened, Fjord took a breath before speaking. “You know, I wanted to join the academy once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a little bad leaving you all here with that ending....  
> *posts anyway*


	50. Chapter 50

“You know, I wanted to join the academy once.”

“ _Really_?” Jester squeaked, turning a wide-eyed look at Fjord.

“Sure, especially after…” Fjord waved his hand, a bit of eldritch energy gathering before he shook it away. He took another deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. “Knew I couldn’t though, Empire never really… well.”

Caleb wanted to ask if Fjord had not always had his abilities, but his heart still beat too fast, throat too tight with anxiety. He slid Frumpkin from his shoulders, letting the cat curl in his lap as he ran his fingers through the fur. He understood why Fjord had not joined the Academy, he never would have been accepted. Even should he have somehow become a student, the war would have likely proved deadly to him. As it had many non-human civilians.

They listed into a short silence, Caduceus’ low inaudible tone a dim backdrop to the room. Caleb’s shoulders tensed as no one said anything, made no move. Perhaps… he had thought once before that Fjord’s preference was for him to participate rather than remain silent, perhaps he was supposed to show interest?

He was interested, even beyond the simple need to know more about the ones who held his fate in their hands. Interest was simple; keeping his voice from shaking as he tried to line his words up in the Common tongue was more difficult. “Did- Ah, y-you did not always… possess those- those abilities?”

Caleb only managed to barely direct the question towards Fjord, vaguely angling his body to turn in the warlock’s direction. He was not sure he was allowed to move, to turn and face Fjord who sat somewhat behind him. He was afraid of the displeasure he might find on the man’s expression. This conversation already verged too close to the topic of prejudiced, he worried somehow he would be the one to bear the recompense for the Assembly’s selectiveness.

He snuck a glance at Molly, reassured by the relaxed (if somewhat concerned) expression on the Tiefling’s face. Mollymauk was not worried, was not angry, and… and he had said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. If Caleb could just keep from offending anyone, he hoped things would be alright.

“No, I was about as interesting as mud growing up.” Fjord snorted in dry amusement. “I was born in the Empire, if you can believe it, grew up in this little orphanage north of Pride’s Call.”

Caleb almost turned again, not knowing where this conversation was going, what the _point_ of it was. He wished he could gauge Fjord’s expression to see what the man wanted from him, try and find the correct response.

“Of course, that was back before they started kicking people out of the Empire.” Fjord continued easily. “I was about ten when I took my leave, got on a boat and headed out to seat. What about you? When did you start studying magic?”

“My abilities were- were discovered when I was six. I was taken to Zadash for training soon after.” Caleb told him, a little surprised one of the others had not informed Fjord of this already. Though, perhaps they had and the question was simply to verify Caleb spoke the truth.

“I thought you lived at Rexxentrum?” Jester asked.

“Ah, y-yes, but my, ah, training began at Zadash. That, ah, that is where all new mages go at first.” Caleb clarified. “After, they usually are sent to Rexxentrum to complete their training, though some do remain. Pumat Sol, for example. Those who go end up either under the teaching of a specific individual or in general classes at the academy.”

“And you were one that got chosen.” Molly guessed.

“Ja- ah, yes. Ma- Ah, T-trent took myself and two others as his students.” Caleb nodded.

“Guess I was probably better off at sea. I didn’t know the Assembly was so strict. Does everyone have to follow, uh…. Rules?”

Caleb paused before answering. They had said there were no rules for him to follow with them, but perhaps that was simply because they had nothing to compare to. No... no, Molly had said there were not. It was... it was fine. Things would be fine. He spoke carefully, anxiety creeping up his chest at needing to remind Fjord of something he had already been told. “I… I do not know. Mas- ah, T-t-trent… told me they did, yes. But we did not- ah, I… I did not, speak with, ah, with others…often.”

“You don’t have to talk about this, if you don’t want to.” Yasha offered gently.

“I- I will.” Caleb replied instantly, shoulders hunching slightly as he curled around Frumpkin.

“Caleb…” Yasha trailed off, tossing a look toward Molly.

Molly grimaced, rolling gracefully to his feet and crossing the short distance to Caleb to sit beside the wizard. He hesitated to touch the mage, but Caleb wasn’t looking panicked and Frumpkin wasn’t hissing at him, so he leaned close enough for their shoulders to touch, tail curling loosely around Caleb. “It’s not a test or anything. We just want to get to know you, and for you to get to know us. What Yasha’s trying to say is, you don’t have to share something you don’t want to. We’ve all got our own comfort zones about what we tell each other.”

“Ah, yes, Mollymauk.” Caleb answered in agreement, tone light but not afraid. Molly was almost hopefully he was feeling safer with him there, though he knew that was just his own imagination. Still, it gave him a nice little sense of smug contentment he was able to make Caleb more comfortable.

“What about before that, in Zadash though? You seemed to get along with Oremid, and Pumat’s a mage there and he is about as laid back as anyone I’ve seen.” Fjord asked curiously. Best to stay away from mentioning Ikithon right off the bat. Caleb had obviously taken Molly’s comment as a direction on how to refer to the mage and appeared intent on obeying, no matter how nervous it made him.

“Pumat is, ah, is an enchanter.” Caleb corrected gently, keeping his gaze focused on Frumpkin in his lap.

“More of a supporting role, right?” Beau asked. “When it comes to the Assembly, I mean.”

“Ja. Yes. That… is an accurate description.” Caleb agreed, gaze flickering up to meet the monks. He shifted uneasily, but Molly was there and Frumpkin was not upset, so he continued. “Ah, Headmaster Oremid is- is not human, as I had- had told Beauregard and- ah, I presume that is much of the reason Pumat was allowed training in Zadash.”

“I wondered about that, first time we met him.” Beau stated, shifting to lean more fully against Yasha in a half-reclined position. “Pretty rare to see anyone not human a part of the Assembly.”

“Not the same in Rexxentrum then?” Molly asked from beside Caleb.

“No. Though there are individuals of a variety of races that reside within the city, I have never seen any as students at the Academy.” Caleb answered.

“Are enchanters less important in the… hierarchy I guess… of the Assembly?” Fjord questioned curiously.

Caleb paused, head tilting to the side for a moment as he considered. “No, not- Ah, that would, I suppose, depend on who you asked. And when.”

“You’ve lost me.” Fjord sighed.

“The Cerberus Assembly works for the king, but those who’s skills lay in the realm of enchanting items often find their work overlapping with, ah, others. Mercenaries, adventurers, other private groups.

They, ah, they bring in revenue to the Assembly to repay the cost of their training and support.”

“So, they can do whatever they want so long as they give money to Academy?” Nott asked.

“I… I would image, yes.” Caleb replied, finding it easier to meet the gaze of the others.

“Is that why they don’t pay you?” Jester spoke up, rolling to lay flat on her stomach and looking up at Caleb from the side. “Back in Nicodranas, I asked if they paid you and you basically said they don’t.”

“I- They- they bore the cost of- of- ah, my abilities are due to them, how could I ask for more?” Caleb stumbled over his reply, face flushing.

“But you’ve been working for them for years now.” Jester huffed, propping her chin on her hands. “Especially with all the fighting and stuff, I’d think you’d have earned _something_.”

“I am a product of the Assembly, of Master Ikithon’s tutelage, such a debt is not- it is…” Caleb began, trailing off as he tried to grasp the illusive fact that he knew should be so obvious. “It… would have been Master Ikithon who would hold that after he took me as his student.”

“I knew a lot of men at sea, sailors, working off a debt.” Fjord commented with an awkward intake of breath, unsure how to deal with Caleb basically referring to himself as just… a _thing_. Like he was an object to be owned and used. Product of the Assembly? And Fjord didn’t miss how Caleb had to keep catching himself from calling Trent master, and how he’d slipped back into it just now.

Fjord shook his head, continuing. “It was how I spent my first few years at sea. My first captain saved my life, letting me join his crew. Half orc child in the Empire during the crusades? I wouldn’t have lasted long. But the thing is… using a debt to say you own someone… it’s not right.”

Caleb’s brow furrowed in thought, counting his breaths as he kept the outward appearance of calm. “It… it has always been that way. Astrid, Eodwulf, and I. We all belong to Master Ikithon.”

As he had always belonged to someone. When he was a child, before he had been accepted to the academy he had, presumably (though he remembered little about that time), belonged to his parents. A young child could hardly be considered anything else. Once taken into the Assembly, he was still young enough to need supervision, so he had still had no say in making his own decisions. What independence he _might_ have developed in Rexxentrum as he approached teenage years was quickly denied him thanks to Trent Ikithon.

He was not entirely sure what to think of this new offered freedom.

“Hey.” Molly drew his attention, nudging him with a shoulder gently. “No one’s mad at you or going to hurt you.”

“Ah, ja, yes, I- I know.” Caleb replied, somewhat hesitant as he glanced up at the Teifling, but at least was acknowledging the sentiment as true. He couldn’t help how he reacted to them, how being the focal point of their attention made his heart twist in anxiety, but he was trying.

“You never though it was odd? What about your parents? Did they never question anything?” Yasha asked curiously.

“I- I do not know…” Caleb said slowly, avoiding her gaze.

“Well, you only saw them a couple times a year, right? So maybe they did question it in between times, but you just didn’t know?” Jester offered hopefully.

“That’s a good way to get killed…” Beau snorted dryly.

“ _Beau_!” Nott hissed, eye narrowing at the monk.

Beau grimaced, remembering that Caleb’s parents actually were dead. She really hoped that wasn’t what had been the cause. The mage had said it had been a fire, but… fire’s could cover up a lot of stuff.

“What?” Yasha questioned, glancing between Nott and Beau with a confused expression.

“Caleb’s parents died a long time ago, in a fire.” Jester answered.

“Did they find who started it?” Yasha questioned.

“I- … I…” Caleb trailed off, brow furrowing as the answer slipped from him, leaving him with the smell of smoke and ash and a certainty he didn’t want to accept. He understood Yasha’s presumption, given Beauregard’s statement. “I was told they died in a fire. I do not know if… if…”

“How do you not know? Did you not ask?” Yasha questioned, confused but trying not to sound accusing.

“Ah, I… did, once.” Caleb hedged, neck flushing red as he looked away.

“Trent didn’t like you asking about it?” Jester guessed softly, eyes sympathetic.

“No. He, ah, he did not.”

“Makes me think he had something to hide.” Beau snorted.

“Sometimes…” Caleb hesitated, voice lowering to a whisper as his shoulders hunched slightly. He knew they disliked Master Ikithon, would likely be pleased to hear his own suspicions about the man. Yet voicing them still sent fear through his veins. “Sometimes I do not know… how truthful he has been.”

“What do you mean?” Nott asked.

“Before- before the war, I was, ah, was always… I obeyed ma- Ah, Trent… helped him with, ah, research or other such things, only spoke to Eodwulf or Astrid. But… during, when there were assignments, mission to go and do… there were- were, ah, things that did not, ah, add up?” Caleb tried to explain. It was difficult putting into words because most of it was a vague feeling, so hard to hold onto. Like a dream slipping from his mind.

“Like what?” Molly spoke up from beside him, tone gentle and inviting.

Caleb looked over at him, meeting his gaze. He wanted to trust them. None of them had reacted to his doubts, neither angry or pleased, just accepting. They allowed him to have Frumpkin with him and wanted him to do whatever he wanted. It was supposed to be him who was earning their trust, but it seemed they were trying to earn his.

And Molly. Molly he wanted to trust the most, the Teifling so close to him right now, so patient always. Caleb knew he didn’t deserve this, but he wanted it.

“Prejudice, mostly, but… sometimes… I- I think…” Caleb trailed off, closing his eyes as his brow furrowed. “I don’t- I don’t remember.”

“Didn’t Pumat say Trent could get in your head?” Fjord commented.

“Maybe Jester could help. If he did something. To make you not remember.” Yasha guessed, looking over at the cleric.

“Oh, man. I don’t know…” Jester sighed, making an odd face after a moment. After a brief pause, she shrugged and scooted on her knees closer to the wizard. “Okay, umm… maybe... Caleb is it okay if I try a spell, it won’t hurt at all, and it will probably help, but it definitely won’t hurt.”

Caleb automatically looked over to Molly, but the Blood Hunter just shrugged. “Up to you, Caleb.”

“Ah… O-okay, Jester.”

Jester smiled widely, reaching up to grasp her symbol of the traveler and speaking a short prayer as her hand glowed, then touched Caleb gently on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow. It's been almost a week... Sorry I left you guys hanging for so long!!  
> I got a little stuck, little meh, because I wanted this chapter to go a certain way and it was being stubborn. So, I took a bit, reminded myself "HEY, this story is for me! Write it how I want!" 
> 
> So I did, and here we are. Hopefully it doesn't read too forced at the end there. 
> 
> Luvs to you all <3


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...it... it wasn't supposed to go this way.... 
> 
> Uh, this chapter got away from me. I don't... I don't even know how. 
> 
> Warning for slightly suicidal thoughts?

Jester’s spell lifted the coating of memories like the tearing of bone and sinew; sharp pain he wished was a physical feeling as it would hurt so much less that way. He was unprepared, yet not. He knew the truth, but at the same time he had not known. Had never been able to fully grasp and hold the revelation.

He had killed them. His own hands burned those that had loved him, cared for him. He had done so willingly, as he had killed and tortured so many others at the behest of his master.

They had not been traitors, the memory of their whispered plots against the crown took on a gray tone, overlapping as a phantom the true image of innocent conversation. It made no sense now; Master Ikithon had never left him alone in his parent’s house, how could he have overheard that to report to his teacher?

The flames, the screams, the demands of obedience; those memories were sharp and clear now. Too real. Too painful. But he could not stop the onslaught of sounds, scents; he could only relive it again, the world fading away as his focus tunneled inward.

There had been no lie to cover those actions, only a blanket of darkness now gone, revealing what his nightmares and subconscious had been screaming at him for so long. His mind replayed it, over and over, watching himself shatter that night. Falling to his knees in the dirt. The heat had been blistering, vision swimming through tears.

Worse had been when the cries had stopped.

Master Ikithon’s voice had been a dull unintelligible tone, rising in volume but going unheeded. The pain of correction had not reached Caleb, had done nothing to piece together the broken shards of what he was. What he had wanted to be. Everything was gone, and it was his fault. He deserved the pain, should have died along with his family. Would have walked into the flames to find them, had it not been for the tight grasp of a hand in his hair, dragging him away.

He relished the uncovered memory of the pain that had followed, punishment for disobedience, for showing weakness. The tears hadn’t stopped, his master’s anger growing with each moment. The travel from the blazing fire back to the Assembly was a blur of pain and shattered thoughts, a glimpse of a young man with jet black hair cropped close to his scalp.

Blood and pain, fire and sharp steel, furiously hissed insults and threats. None of it made a difference. Only when the spell was cast, when he looked up at his master, afraid and broken with no knowledge why, had he been himself again.

He was revolted; disgusted and infuriated with himself, with Trent, with… with everything. He was a monster, had killed his family.

It had all been a lie. He had been there, he had killed them. Had burned everything, had destroyed his family for a lie, to prove his loyalty. His obedience. It was his fault. It always had been.

Caleb’s fists tightening, twisting the fabric of his clothes. These people were more than he deserved; too gentle, too kind. He destroyed everything he touched, had betrayed everything he’d once wanted to be. He stumbled to his feet blindly, Frumpkin falling unceremoniously to the floor.

He paid no attention to Beauregard stepping forward, the monk pulling an unresponsive and blank eyed Jester away from him as she and Yasha tried to get the cleric’s attention.

He could not be trusted, they should… they should not trust him. He did not trust himself.

Uncaring of the consequence, Caleb reached into his components bag, retrieving the copper wire and holding it up to his lips. He could not be trusted, if nothing else this would prove as much. Yet he needed to know. He had been there that night, a bare glimpse in Caleb’s memory.

Caleb snapped out the short incantation, breath coming too quickly as he sent a message to Eodwulf.

“Er hat uns angelogen.” He accused, frustrated fury filling him. His heart still skipped, ingrained fear of breaking the rules causing anxiety to dig into his chest, but the horrifying fury burned to hotly. The acid taste of self-loathing was enough to chase away the fear.

It felt like a lifetime of silence, Caleb wondering if he would even get a response. He ignored the others; Molly standing now as well close beside him, Jester staring unseeing ahead while Beau and Yasha tried to talk to her, Fjord’s stressed angry voice demanding answers. Eventually, two words reached his mind.

“Ich weiß.”

_They are traitors, deal with them._

He had obeyed, as he had many times during their training. As they **all** had.

He remembered and remembered clearly. Remembered standing and watching the blaze as it grew, their screams and cries. Remembered something inside him breaking, shattering as he watched them burn. His mother, warm brown eyes full of pride, his father, deep laughter that shook his whole body. It was all he could remember of them now, though it was more than he’d had before.

How could he have forgotten?

And he remembered being in Master Iki- In Trent’s office, looking up to hear news of his parent’s death, hearing it had been an accident. Believing it, letting the inconsistencies slide past his mind as water through his hands.

Trent had lied to them. And Eodwulf knew.

Before he could reconsider, before the others could ask or stop him, Caleb found himself casting the spell once more. Bitter pain, betrayal colored his voice; Eodwulf had known. “Wie lang? Warum hast du es mir nicht gesagt?”

Eodwulf’s reply came quicker this time. “Seit ich gestorben bin. Er hätte dich mir nicht glauben lassen. Ich werde dich bald sehen.”

“CALEB!”

Hands gripped his collar, dragging him close to a hard body and Caleb looked up into Fjord’s eyes as the man demanded answers.

“Caleb, what were you saying? Who are you messaging? What happened, what’s wrong with Jester?”

Jester? Caleb looked over at the cleric, frustration rising seeing her blank unmoving stare. Now he had hurt her as well. He could not be trusted, he caused pain and destruction _everywhere_ he went. He didn’t deserve this gentleness, even now as Fjord held him there was no pain. And he deserved to suffer. He had hurt so many people, so many who did not deserve it.

If they would not punish him, he would _make_ them.

Caleb shoved away all the fondness he had developed for them, pushing away the affection, the hope of belonging. He was not worth that, did not deserve that. He tore his gaze from Jester, eyes focusing intensely on Fjord again.

Half-orc warlock, serving an unknown entity. It should be simple to push him, to get a reaction. Beau and Yasha guarded Jester, Nott between the three. Good, he had hurt her enough. Mollymauk… His heart ached at the though of causing him harm. No. Best to focus on Fjord.

Perhaps if he pushed him far enough, the warlock would kill him.

Caleb didn’t try to escape Fjord’s grip, knew the other would easily win a test of strength. In any case, touch was required for this spell. Caleb knew from experience it was painful but would cause no lasting harm. The wizard’s breath still came out in quick pants, heart twisting as he reached out to lay a hand on Fjord’s shoulder, electricity dancing across his fingers.

Fjord jerked back, pain coursing though him at as he barked out shocked pained cry. He released Caleb, the mage backing away, and Fjord couldn’t get his muscles to cooperate to stop him.

“Caleb?” Yasha spoke his name, leaving Jester and Beauregard to step towards him.

Distantly, Caleb noted Beauregard stepping protectively in front of the cleric, blocking her from his line of sight as she stopped trying to get the cleric’s attention. Instead she focused on him, the obvious danger he presented. Good, they needed to protect Jester from him. His attention shifted to Yasha as she carefully stepped past Fjord.

Aasimar barbarian. He’d seen her feral rage, she could end this if Fjord would not. Easily. And he would let her. Fire gathered in his hands and he hurled it toward Yasha, the flames striking off her shoulder as she winced. A second ball of flame found its mark on Fjord’s torso, forcing him to take a step back once more.

Flames gathered in his palms again as he stood, breath coming in heaving pants as he looked between them, waiting for them do something, _anything_. Yet still they stood there, Molly holding his hands up as he stood in front of Fjord. “Verdammt! Zurückschlagen!”

Yasha and Molly looked at each other, a silent exchange between them in the tense air of the room. They couldn’t hurt him, neither of them could live with themselves if they did, but they couldn’t let him keep this up. There was no way to tell just how far he would go; he was a powerful mage and could do real damage.

Mollymauk grimaced, then turned a charming smile toward Caleb, voice taking on a soothing quality as he spoke. “Hey Friend, why don’t we just calm down and talk about this?”

Caleb’s breath hitched, eyes closing briefly as he shook his head slowly. His hands lowered slightly, flames dimming and flickering out. After a brief pause, Caleb tensed, opening his eyes to glare at Mollymauk with true fury. Rationally, he knew it was not Molly’s fault, he was just trying not to hurt him even though he shouldn’t care; he shouldn’t be trying to keep promises to a monster like Caleb.

But he was also angry; he had slipped from one master’s control and Molly had attempted to put yet another arcane collar on him. The anger made it easier to do what he needed. Frumpkin yowled at him and Caleb clicked his fingers to send him away, not breaking his gaze from Molly. He didn’t deserve his friend, the comfort he offered. No. He wanted the Mighty Nine to _hurt_ him.

It was apparent slight cantrips would not provoke them to treating him as he deserved. The thought of causing them real damage set his gut twisting in disgust. He would delay going that far as long as he could. Viciously, he raked his nailed across the back of his neck, rolling the slight blood that welled up between his palms. He knew the spell would not harm Molly, would not even last that long, but it was still hard to ignore the guilt as he spoke the incantation, fixing it in his mind as he extended a hand toward the blood hunter.

Fjord’s shocked expression was soon in plain view for Caleb as the purple Tiefling abruptly vanished. With a grim pleasure, Caleb watched as Fjord’s jaw tightened, the man squaring himself up as he straightened. Had that been enough?

“Molly?!” Yasha called out to the Tiefling in vain, looking quickly over to Caleb. “What did you do? Bring him back!”

Caleb’s attention was for Fjord though, the warlock summoning his falchion with a splash of water as he approached. He could see anger in Fjord expression, reluctance too, but a fierce protectiveness. He wanted Mollymauk back. He would do what needed to be done, Caleb was sure of it.

“Bring him back, Caleb.” Fjord stated, his tone unmistakably making the words an order.

“Fjord, no!” Nott called out, moving around from where she had stood trying to help Jester. “He’ll bring him back, right Caleb?”

“Nein.” Caleb stated fiercely, shaking his head.

“Caleb, I don’t want to hurt you, but that doesn't mean I won't. We’ve fought enough mages I know a concentration spell when I see one. I'm not asking. Bring. Him. Back.” Fjord growled, stalking forward slowly.

Caleb relaxed, impassively watching Fjord. Yes. That had been sufficient, _now_ Fjord was angry enough. Would punish Caleb like he deserved. There was not much time before he needed to release the spell, he would not risk Molly being unable to return. He had every intention of dropping the spell before that time, yet now… _NOW_ they would hurt him, maybe enough to kill him if he were lucky.

Just like he deserved.

“Nein.” Caleb repeated the denial evenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er hat uns angelogen – He lied to us.
> 
> Ich weiß – I know.
> 
> Wie lang? Warum hast du es mir nicht gesagt – How long? Why didn’t you tell me?
> 
> Seit ich gestorben bin. Er hätte dich mir nicht glauben lassen. Ich werde dich bald sehen. – Since I died. He would not have let you believe. I will see you soon. 
> 
> Verdammt! Zurückschlagen! - Damn it! Fight back!


	52. Chapter 52

Beauregard wanted to scream.

How the hell things had spiraled this far out of control, she had no idea. They had just been talking, Caleb had been relaxing, it had been _fine_.

Now Jester wasn’t reacting to anything; not their shouting, not Beau and Nott shaking her, nothing. She stared straight ahead with a mildly horrified look in her eyes and Beau didn’t know what was wrong with her. Caduceus was lost in his little ritual to the Wildmother, apparently communicating with her and Beau didn’t have a fucking clue how long that would last.

The only thing she _did_ know was that Fjord was serious about forcing Caleb to drop the spell. They were about the closest thing he had to family (hell, that they **all** had to family) and Beau knew she would do whatever it took to protect them and Fjord was the same way. Caleb was acting **so** differently that, even though she extended that feeling of protection to him, she worried what he had done to Molly. She didn’t know what Caleb was doing, if he was following orders from whoever he had just messaged, or if there was some ulterior motive for attacking them. He was speaking that Zemnian language, so it _probably_ wasn’t Trent…

But he also seemed to be stuck ONLY speaking Zemnian, which was going to be a problem talking to him. Maybe that was why he wouldn’t back down? But no, he understood Nott and Fjord just fine…

Either way, with both clerics out of commission right now, it wasn’t a good time to be hacking at someone with a blade. Given Caleb’s likely high level pain tolerance, that was probably to only way Fjord was going to achieve the results he wanted and he knew it. The mage hadn’t made a peep when Dairon had been hitting him, and he was a hell of a long way from the fearful obedience of that day.

“Nott! Stay with Jester.” Beau snapped out abruptly, not wanting to leave Jester unguarded even though Caleb had apparently shifted from aggressive to just stubborn refusal. He’d done a completed switch in the blink of an eye once, she wasn’t going to risk it. She really, _really_ hated this, and they were all going to have **words** when this was over, but right now there was really only one choice.

Bruises healed a hell of a lost easier than bone deep cuts from a blade.

She didn’t have time to prepare herself, just accepted the cutting guilt and didn’t give herself time to second guess or doubt. She wouldn’t be able to follow through it she did.

Beau darted forward, shoving herself between Fjord and Caleb to face the warlock and shove him back and away from the mage. Then, very glad Molly wasn’t around to rip her a new one for this, she half turned and threw an elbow into Caleb’s face.

There was blood on his face as he rocked back, but Beau was already committed, so she followed through and spun around to face him as she punched him with a right hook. He stumbled back half a step but righted himself and moved towards her and Beau growled to herself. She slipped around him, grabbing him and twisting around to throw him on the floor.

“Enough! Caleb, enough. Please…” Beau said, a pleading note to her voice. She couldn’t keep doing this, she didn’t want to. She dreaded that this was the whole point, would almost prefer it had been him just blindly obeying some predetermined order from Trent. Some asshole to beat instead of Caleb who had been through enough of that for a lifetime and more.

“What the hell?!”

Beau sighed, shoulders dropping in relief at Molly’s angry and confused voice. She wasn’t sure she could have done more than that, hated herself for doing what she did… But it was fine, they could get past this and-

“What the _hell_?! Where the fuck did you just send me??” Molly snarled, tail lashing in tight frustration behind him.

Okay, maybe things weren’t fine. Molly sounded _pissed_ and it wasn’t at her it was at _Caleb_. He was always so even keeled (more like protective and vaguely lovesick) when it came to the wizard, but when Beau looked over at him, the Tiefling’s eyes were blazing and focused on Caleb.

Caleb remained silent; though when Beau glanced over at him, he was getting unsteadily to his feet and at least _looked_ like he was feeling some remorse. Not fucking enough pulling shit like that, but she felt like scum looking at the blood on his face. She didn’t want the guilt, picked angry frustration instead. “That was _not_ okay, Caleb! What the hell?”

“What happened? What’s wrong with Jester?” Fjord demanded a well, dismissing the falchion now that everyone was… here. In the room physically at least.

“Why were you attacking us, we’re fucking trying to _help_ you.” Beau snapped.

“What about that message, what were you saying? Is it something to do with what happened to Jester?” Fjord questioned.

“Molly, are you okay?” Yasha questioned, stepping toward the Tiefling in concern.

“No, I’m bloody well NOT okay!” He snarled, taking a step away from her.

“Will you calm the fuck down, you’re back, can we figure out what just happened?!” Beau shouted, completely disregarding her own demand for calm. “Caleb, you can’t just attack us, make one of us disappear and just stand there waiting for us to hurt you to bring him back!”

“I think we can all scold Caleb later, but shouldn’t we be trying to figure out what happened to Jester? Maybe ask just who the hell he was messaging?” Fjord argued.

“Or just what the hell kind of spell sends me to some other plane of existence!” Molly interjected.

“That’s a little less important right now, Molly!” Beau snapped, focus shifting slightly.

Even as the argument rose in volume, Jester didn’t move from her place beside Nott, the rising chaos not reaching her at all.

~~

Caduceus stood from communing with the Wildmother, turning and silently taking in the turmoil that was the rest of the group.

Wow, he had missed a lot.

He could gather most of the story by what they were shouting at each other about, all of them going around and around in circles, none of them really knowing what to do. The questions toward Caleb soon turned to arguments about which was the best thing to try and fix first. All of them wanted to know how to help Jester, but equally concerning was whatever message the wizard had sent, and why, and to who. As well as the issue of where he had sent Molly and his initial refusal to return him.

Caleb simply stood there silently, but he was following their argument, probably waiting for it to turn on him again.

Right.

Caduceus didn’t try to interrupt them just yet. Instead, he casually made his way over to Jester. She didn’t appear physically injured, but she certainly wasn’t tracking the ongoing arguments. She was never quiet and distant, always energetic and eager to put her two coppers in when it came to her opinion on a subject. So, there must be something wrong. Her eyes didn’t follow the motion of his hand when he waved it in front of her face.

Huh… He wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was a little bit like Caleb had done a couple times, but worse almost.

Caduceus turned away from her for the time being, wading into the middle of the group and approaching Caleb. They all fell silent at his calm interjection into the argument, eyes falling on him. “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but Caleb, would you like me to heal your injuries?”

“No.” Caleb answered simply, though his tone was polite.

“Let him fucking heal you!” Beau snapped.

“Oh, so _now_ we’re speaking common?” Molly snarked nearly at the same time, still clearly upset.

“No.” Caleb repeated toward Beauregard, then turned his attention to Molly. He didn’t meet the Tieflings eyes as he spoke, tone apologetic. “I am sorry, Molly. I did not think-“

“Exactly! You didn’t think!” Molly interrupted, still shouting and furious.

“Molly.” Caduceus spoke evenly, focusing his full attention on the blood hunter. It was a testament to how upset the Tiefling was, that he was still snapping so angrily at Caleb. Once there was quiet again, he continued. “Why don’t we find somewhere comfortable and quiet for Jester. She doesn’t seem hurt, maybe she just needs time. Then we can talk about what happened.”

“That’s a good idea.” Nott chimed in, already taking one of Jester’s hands in her own. “She’s already picked a room, so we can get her all settled there. She’s going to be okay, right?”

“She’ll be fine.” Caduceus assured, confident that somehow they would make sure she would be. He followed after the two of them as Nott led the unresponsive and unresisting Jester toward the predetermined room. He glanced back over his shoulder, calling out as he went. “Caleb, if you could come along?”

Caduceus wasn’t about to leave them to go back to arguing. Caleb hadn’t exactly been participating in the argument, but he hadn’t been backing down to appease them either. Something had changed, and he suspected it had something to do with what happened to Jester, but there was still that underlying obedience. He felt a little bad taking advantage of it, Caleb did immediately follow them, but it was best to give some distance from the others for a moment.

None of the rooms were large enough to fit them all, so Yasha, Fjord, Beau, and Molly remained in the main room while the others helped Jester. They could hear the slow conversation between Caduceus and Caleb, the Firbolg catching up on what had transpired.

“She lifted a spell, one Trent had place, ah, a long time ago. It, ah, it is possible there was some, ah, arcane energy that caused a type of- of backlash. I do not know, I have not- I have never seen this, ah, reaction.” Caleb explained carefully, guilt and anxiety vying for position in his chest.

“Can you tell if the spell she lifted is affecting her?”

There was a brief pause of silence before Caleb answered, the wizard speaking a short word and tracing a symbol in the air. He looked over Jester, studying the aura around her. “I do not see any affects on her. It- it may fade, given time, whatever this is.”

“You go talk to the others.” Nott told the two of them. “I’m staying here with Jester for now.”

“Ah, I- I am sorry. I did not… I did not mean to harm her. I do not know how-“

“This isn’t your fault, Caleb.” Nott shook her head. “This is Trent’s doing. But earlier… Caleb, you attacked us, sent Molly away somewhere that really really upset him. Beau is very upset too. She didn’t want to hurt you, but you wouldn’t bring Molly back.”

“I am-“

“You don’t need to apologize to _me_ , Caleb.” Nott interrupted, somehow both stern and gentle at the same time.

Caleb looked down, guilty growing in his chest. He still believed he had deserved the pain, and worse, but he supposed she was correct. He could not atone for what he had done by causing more pain. Even if much of it was unintentional in the instance. “Yes, Nott. I…understand. May I- could I leave Frumpkin here, for Jester?”

“I’m sure she would like that very much.” Nott answered primly, curling up beside Jester’s seated form on the bed.

Caleb clicked his fingers, Frumpkin appearing on the ground beside him. Immediately, the cat turned a displeased feline glare of disapproval up at him and Caleb crouched down to speak to him. “I know. I am sorry. But Jester needs you right now, okay?”

Caleb picked Frumpkin up, petting him gently as an apology before placing him in Jester’s lap with a soft whisper. “Tut mir leid.”

He did not know what was wrong with Jester, hoped it would pass over time. She seemed lost, like he sometimes would become when the memories threatened to pull him from the moment. He feared that was his fault, his memories, and he sincerely hoped that were not true. As Caduceus had said, perhaps she just needed time.

For now, the others had questions and he owed them an explanation. He worried what they would think, what they would do. He feared their anger, but a part of him welcomed it.

The four were gathered in a loose semicircle as he and Caduceus approached. Yasha hovered close to Molly, but the Tiefling appeared not to want any kind of physical contact if the careful distance was any indication. Beau and Fjord were glaring angrily at each other, a thick tension hanging over them all.

Yasha looked over at them first, shifting her stance slightly to acknowledge them. Molly looked over at her movement, arms dropping from where they had been crossed tightly over his chest. He took a step toward them, eyes on Caleb.

“First, no shut up Beau, what the hell was that, where did you send me?” Molly demanded, calmer and no longer shouting, but still visibly shaken.

“It was… a banishment spell…” Caleb explained slowly, guilt and anxiety returning full force as the adrenaline and fury faded. “It- ah, sends a creature, or- or person, to their original plane of existence. If, ah, since you originate from this plane, you would, ah, would be in a- a demiplane, harmless. Safe, it is….a simple expanse of nothing. White landscape. I have experienced it myself.”

It was not good enough of an apology, nothing would be he knew. But he hoped to express how he had not wanted to hurt Molly, pointless as the gesture would be. He had broken their trust and he deserved their anger. Deserved Molly’s fury.

“Well, that sure wasn’t were I went. Wherever you sent me, it was hot, dark, and smelled like corpses. So, thanks for that experience.” Molly growled out, looking away.

“I- I did not…” Caleb pulled back in surprise, stumbling to form words before he trailed off. There was no excuse for the mistake. He had presumed Molly had been born on this plane, he had mentioned being in the circus so Caleb had just assumed... Yet that must not have been the case.

“I just want to know where that was.” Molly sighed, anger suddenly evaporating into an exhausted resignation.

Caleb’s brow furrowed in though, the wizard breathing through the unease as he thought about the implications. Mollymauk was a Tiefling, had obviously not originated here, and given the description of where he had found himself… He answered honestly, if reluctant. “It- may have been the nine hells.”

“Why did I know you were going to say that…” Molly muttered, shaking his head as he walked past them toward the rooms.

“Molly-“

“Leave him alone, Caleb.” Yasha interrupted him, earning a surprised look from the wizard. He dropped his gaze at the anger simmering in her expression, for all her words had been spoken evenly.

“Okay, now that we’ve answered one question, mind telling us who you sent a message to?” Beau spoke up in the silence. She was concerned about Molly, just like Yasha obviously was. Beau also realized that Yasha knew it wasn't a good idea to try and talk to him, and she trusted her judgement on this. 

Caleb drew a shaky breath, preparing himself. “I was speaking to Eodwulf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tut mir leid = I'm sorry


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for this roller-coaster?

“Eodwulf? Why-” Fjord stated blandly, grimacing then shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if the ‘why’ mattered right now. That depended on what had been said.

“Great, care to elaborate what you said?” Beau ground out, carefully not looking at Caleb or the slight red on her own knuckles.

“I think knowing why would go a long way to help as well.” Caduceus stated, picking up on Fjord’s dropped query.

“Why does not matter.” Caleb contradicted, jaw tight but Caduceus could see it was fear and not anger.

“It fucking does if it causes you to banish Molly and throw fire at Yasha and Fjord.” Beau snapped, jaw clenching as Caleb flinched slightly.

“You said Jester lifted a spell.” Caduceus continued evenly, glancing over gently at Beau before turning his attention back to Caleb. “Why don’t you tell us what happened when she did.”

Caleb didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to admit it out loud. It was too raw, too painful, without the outrage and fury coursing through him. Now there was just hurt and fear, but he spoke anyway. He deserved to feel that pain, he had killed them. They should know. Should know he could not be trusted, that they should treat him as what he was.

“I had- had told you before. About my parent’s death.” He began choosing his words carefully to keep any tremble from his voice. They should hate him; he would make them see that. “Before I formally graduated from student to a member of the Assembly. Trent told me they had died. It was a lie, reinforced by a memory spell. Jester removed that spell and I- I remembered what had- had happened.”

“What actually happened?” Caduceus prompted.

“I had killed them. The fire they died in was my doing.” Caleb answered, looking down as his shoulders tensed.

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that. What happened to get you there? Why did Trent want you to forget so badly?” Caduceus pressed.

“There was… a layer of memory spells.” Caleb explained, glancing up at Fjord before focusing on the floor again. “I suspect… that is what is wrong with Jester. Removing one removed them all, but I- I do not know what the effect will be.”

Fjord swore lowly under his breath, running a hand through his hair, but said nothing else so Caleb continued. “I can remember both, the lie and the truth. We had been made to believe our families were traitors, plotting against the crown. Our training was, ah, was to deal with traitors. However necessary. It… it was a final test, before we graduated. Eodwulf and I. Astrid had graduated some weeks prior, so it was only us and Trent.”

Caleb took in a slow breath, pulling back inside himself as he spoke, distancing himself from what he was saying. He was weak, he could not bear reliving this again. “We waited outside while Eodwulf dealt with his. It was late when we arrived at my family’s home. Trent told me to deal with them. I barred the doors and set fire to the house. They died inside. I… I was weak, I broke. I would not obey, ignored his orders, showed weakness. When discipline did not work, he made me forget.”

“Eodwulf was there. Is that why you messaged him?” Caduceus guessed, glancing around at Yasha, Fjord, and Beau. They were all wearing varying looks of horror, so it fell to him to get the full story.

“Ja. I… needed to know. I, ah, I told him Trent had lied to us. He said he knew. I asked why, how long, why did he not tell me…”

“At what point did any of that make it seem like a good idea to _attack_ us?” Beau interrupted as Caleb trailed off into silence.

Caleb looked up at her, meeting her gaze and gauging the intensity there. Would they consider him an enemy now? Treat him as the threat he was? His heart raced at the thought, anxiety twisting and mixing with the guilt in his chest. He deserved no less, but ingrained fear of punishment still set his pulse racing. “I hurt Jester. I- I should- should be p-punished, you…”

“Caleb, we’ve told you. We’re not going to hurt you.” Beau stated, voice strained.

“Why? You should. I killed my own family, tortured people, killed hundreds during the war. I attack _you_ , spoke to your enemy and for all you know have lied about what words were exchanged.” Caleb listed, frustration beginning to overshadow the fear of what he _knew_ they should do to him. “I have-“

He stopped short as Yasha **growled** , the barbarian woman stepping toward him with crossed arms.

Caleb shrank back, face paling as he looked away from the raw fury in her expression. He deserved this, but without the anger and frustration to hide behind, he was still _terrified_. Of them, of pain, of rules and punishments. It was terrifying, but familiar, and as lost as he was in this new revelation, he _wanted_ that familiarity as much as it scared him.

“We don’t hurt our friends, Caleb.” Yasha said, voice unusually fierce. “Trent made you kill and torture, he gave you no choice. I do not care what you said to Eodwulf. I care that _you_ chose to attack us. To take away our choice. Do you think Beauregard wanted to hurt you? You made her do that. And Molly… he does not remember much of his past; wherever you sent him…”

Yasha sighed, dropping her arms as the rage faded to concern as she looked toward where the blood hunter had gone to join Jester and Nott. “You wanted to remember, he did not. Does not.”

The conversation was abruptly interrupted by Nott’s voice, shouting for Caduceus and Fjord.

~~

Jester was lost.

She didn’t know where she was, why everything was so dark, why there was smoke so thick in the air. Her momma was dead? And her papa, but she’d never known him. So why had she killed them? Why?

She loved her momma, would do _anything_ to keep her safe. Why would she hurt her? But she had… hadn’t she? That was why there was smoke and fire and why everything was dark, why her heart hurt so much.

There was someone else, yelling angry ALWAYS angry, and everything hurt. But she didn’t feel the pain, she just… remembered it. Shards of crystals, white hot blades, flames choking the sky with smoke, screams… It all moved and circled in her memory like a hot coal, sharp pain that went around, over and over. Why had she killed them? Had she?

Jester wanted to scream, but her throat would not work. She could not move, could not scream, could not cry. She was lost. Trapped in the dark and smoke and ash.

A sparkle of green broke through the endless darkness and smoke, the smell of fresh grass drifting like a breath of fresh air. It wasn’t smoke and fear and pain and fire and horror and pain… Jester followed it. With every non-step, she could breath. Hazy visions and memories of fire and ash were replaced with clear memories of herself alone in an elaborate room, drawing pictures and giggling with the young boy who was her imaginary friend.

That same green cloak was what she followed now through the lightening darkness, winding her way through the cloud of fear and uncertainty until it just her. She saw only her memories; her mother humming a soft tune as she brushed Jester’s hair, her pranks on the various employees of the Chateau, her less harmless prank on the Duke, leaving her momma to go looking for her father, the Traveler always at her side.

“There you are, my dear.” His voice was in her ear, playful as ever, and she breathed. She closed her eyes to gentle darkness, calm and only her own thoughts.

When she opened her eyes, the room around her became clear. She had moved at some point, a gap of time that was distressing, but at least she was not alone. Nott was pressed against her side, Molly sitting in silence nearby but out of reach of them both, and Frumpkin was purring in her lap.

Jester sniffled, chocking back tears as she hurriedly cast a message spell. “Hey momma, it’s me, Jester, I just want to see how you are, if you’re okay, so just let me know, okay, I love you.”

Jester was shaking, tears spilling over as she waited with unbearable anxiety and fear, praying to the Traveler that she would get an answer.

“Oh, Jester! It is good to hear your voice. I am doing well, though I miss you always, my Sapphire. I do hope you come-“

The words ended abruptly as they reached the limits of the spell, but Jester didn’t even care what the rest of the message was. Hearing her momma’s voice, the way she spoke her name… The dam broke and Jester sobbed, curling tightly around Frumpkin as she just cried. Her momma was okay, she was alive, she wasn’t dead. She hadn’t done those things, that hadn’t been her.

She was relieved, couldn’t hold back sobbing even as Frumpkin meowed and butted her face with his head. Caleb was so so nice, leaving Frumpkin with her. So so nice. It made her cry harder realizing those were _his_ memories. That had been what HE remembered now.

“Jester? Jester, are you okay, what’s wrong?” Fjord’s voice was full of concern, the green skin blurry with the thickness of her tears when Jester looked up at him.

Jester nodded, picking Frumpkin up and placing a kiss on the top of the feline’s head before carefully putting him beside her on the bed. Once Frumpkin was off her lap, Jester launched herself into Fjord’s arms, crying all the harder. “Oh, Fjord! It was so sad! It was like it was me, but it wasn’t and he didn’t want to but had to and- and- he was so so mad and always hurting him and wouldn’t stop because he was just still sad, you know.”

Jester stopped to take in a large breath, words still just tumbling out muffled against the warlock’s chest. “I just kept seeing it over and over and it was so horrible and- and-.”

She trailed off into tears again, Fjord awkwardly patting her on the back and trying to be soothing and comforting. He glanced over as he heard footsteps entering the small room, tensing as his gaze landed on Caleb.

The wizard noticed, eyes skirting to the side as he came to a stop a few feet away. When Jester looked up toward him though, he stepped forward, dropping to his knees in front of them. Much as Fjord was still very much annoyed with Caleb, the sight of him kneeling on the floor made him very uncomfortable.

“J-jester, I-.”

“Oh, Caleb!” Jester cried, tears welling up again. “You left Frumpkin here for me, that was so nice, and I am so sorry you went through all of that and- and- Ohmygosh what happened? You’re _hurt_?”

“Breath, Jester, he’s okay. There was just a little… misunderstanding.” Fjord said calmingly.

“ _Misunderstanding_?” Jester askes shrilly. “Fjord, he’s bleeding! Caleb, here let me-“

“No…” Caleb denied the offer before it was made, leaning back but not standing up to move away from her outstretched hand. The word was enough to stop Jester, and his voice shook as he continued. “Please, ah, it is… it is alright. Don’t- You do not need to heal me. I would- would rather, ah, you did not.”

“How about we just all call it a day.” Fjord suggested into the awkward silence that followed, glancing back at the rest of the group that hovered near the doorway. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted and have way too much to think about. We’ll figure out what to do tomorrow.”

There was a general muttering of agreement, Molly being the first to leave the room. The purple Tiefling pushed past Beau and Yasha, who were standing in the doorway, and headed towards his own room. Yasha tailed along after him, brushing her hand down Beauregard's arm in a comforting gesture as she left.

“Come on, Caleb.” Caduceus called, prompting the mage into motion. The Firbolg walked the short distance to Caleb’s room, pausing for a moment to ask. “You gonna be alright? I know that must have been a lot to remember all of a sudden.”

“Ah, yes, Caduceus. I- I will, ah, be alright.” Caleb replied quietly.

“Well if you need anything, even if it’s just to have an ear to listen to you, my room is right over there. You can come find me.”

“…thank you, Caduceus.” Caleb said after a short pause, head tilting slightly as he met the cleric’s gaze.

Caduceus nodded with a smile, turning and leaving Caleb to enter his room.

Caleb didn’t feel any better being alone in his room. Frumpkin had followed him, the cat leaping up to sit upon the bet and look at him expectantly. Caleb moved towards him, stroking him and scratching under his chin. Frumpkin climbed into his lap as he sat down, purring and kneading Caleb’s leg with his paws.

He wasn’t sure what to think about what had happened. Nor was he sure how these new memories changed anything. He still needed to remain with the Mighty Nine, if nothing else than for the peace agreement. The Assembly, and the crown, had placed him with them and, unless he wished to be viewed as a rogue mage, he would remain with them until they decided otherwise.

Caleb wondered if they would discuss that among themselves, after the events of today. After what he admitted he had done.

There was a light knock at the door, Caleb barely standing before it opened and Molly came inside. Caleb hesitated, slowly dropping his gaze as the Tiefling closed the door behind him. He was not sure what to expect, Molly remained at the doorway instead of striding forward like Trent would have. Caleb let out a slow breath, folding his arms behind him carefully. “Mollymauk.”

Molly frowned, stepping back to lean against the door. “I’m not here to hit you, or punish you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Yeah, I’m still a little mad, but that doesn’t change what I said before. I’m not going to hurt you. So don’t…”

Molly sighed, gesture at Caleb with one hand. “You don’t have to do that.”

Caleb nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. “Mollymauk, I- I am sorry. I did not realize…”

“You can still call me Molly, if you want.” Molly sighed sadly. “Look, I just wanted… I get it okay. You didn’t know that would happen. Hell, _I_ didn’t know. There’s a lot about my past I don’t remember. Pretty much anything from further back than meeting Yasha eight years ago. Guess now I know where I came from.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

“You keep saying that, and I hear you. It was still really shitty, it’s not something I wanted to know or see, or even half remember, but I get you weren’t trying to hurt me. Or even the others. I’ve seen what you can do, remember? That definitely wasn't you trying to do damage.” Molly said, shaking his head and stepping forward slowly. “I can forgive you for this whole thing, just… don’t do something like that again, okay?”

“Of course, Molly. I am- ah, if- if I could, ah, make it up to you? Somehow? Please? Anything.” Caleb asked, desperately sincere and even looking up to meet Molly’s gaze.

Molly lifted an eyebrow, a hint of his playful nature returning in a slight smile. “Anything?”

“Ja, anything. Please. Anything you wish.” Caleb agreed quickly.

“Alright. Here’s the deal. I want something happier and nicer to remember. It won’t hurt, I’ll drop it if you change your mind, you don’t have to do anything during or after, and I don’t expect anything from you. Got it?” Molly explained, walking forward to stand close in front of him.

The explanation made little sense to Caleb, but if it would repair some of the hurt he had caused, he would agree. He had no idea what Molly had in mind if it didn’t involve pain, and the boundaries Molly had put in place negated any other creative punishments he remembered from Trent. Nervously, Caleb nodded agreement.

Molly closed the last of the distance between them, leaning forward until their lips met, the Tiefling pressing close for four, five, six heartbeats. He was impossibly gentle, no possessive hunger or force, just a light touch of affection that Caleb could not find it in himself to be afraid of. Molly’s breath fanned lightly across Caleb’s lips and neck as the blood hunter pulled away. Caleb leaned forward, nearly following the brief gentle contact before catching himself.

Caleb’s lips were parted slightly in surprise as he met Molly’s gaze. He didn’t know what to do, but remembered with relief that Molly had said he did not need to do anything. The Tiefling had a small smile, tinted slightly with worry, though that soon smoothed into a calm playfulness. “See? Better memory for both of us.”

“Ja.” Caleb agreed, almost breathless and feeling more than a little stupid for the reply.

Molly grinned, turning and leaving with a brief chuckled “goodnight, Caleb.”

Caleb watched him go, a completely different type of nervousness curling in his stomach, not entirely unpleasant. He had not expected to receive affection. Molly had been angry earlier, had still been upset when he had come into Caleb’s room mere moments ago, but he had… had been kind, gentle. That playful smile as he’d left…

Caleb moved over to his bed, laying down and curling around Frumpkin as he tried to keep himself from replaying the chaste kiss, the warmth of Molly, his scent and the vibrance of his skin. Molly was right. It was a better memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pushes post button*
> 
> *sits and waits for explosions*


	54. Chapter 54

Caleb slept and dreamed of Molly.

The Tiefling’s smooth violet skin, soft against his, breath warm against his lips, red eyes glowing as he pulled away and smiled.

Caleb dreamed of Molly, vanishing with a faint popping sound, and he couldn’t bring him back. He dreamed of Molly burning, screaming in the nine hells surrounded by the bodies of the rest of the Mighty Nine, an endless torment that was Caleb’s fault. Molly screamed and burned, fire raging around him until Caleb could not longer see for the smoke.

Caleb called out to him, tried to run forward to help, but could not reach him. The doors were barred, flames a towering inferno that raged into the night sky. Caleb looked down and there was blood running rivers down his arms, crystals embedded in his skin leaching arcane energy that fed into the fire. He turned and was greeted by Trent’s furious expression, his shouted rage. The older mage’s hands glowed with silver arcane energy, threatening to erase his memory again. Erase Molly.

Caleb dreamed and Caleb cried.

~~

Fjord did not sleep.

He sat alone in the darkness of his room, arms wrapped around his legs as he curled upright on the bed, trying to push the whispers of Uk’otoa from his mind. It terrified him, how close he had come to attacking Caleb.

He couldn’t stop imagining what would have happened if Beau hadn’t stepped in.

His blood had been boiling, Uk’otoa pushing at the back of his mind to strike, to cut down his enemies. The only thing that stayed his hand was the knowledge that Caleb _wasn’t_ an enemy, even if he had been attacking them in that moment. Fear of losing Mollymauk had pushed him to threaten Caleb, Uk’otoa’s influence would have let him follow through.

He would have left Caleb injured and bleeding, might not have stopped even when Molly had returned. Would Caleb have fought back? Would he have stood there silent as the falchion ripped through skin down to bone, blood coating the floor? How far would Fjord have gone… would there have even been anything left…?

It was that image that kept him awake, praying to the Wildmother for forgiveness for something he hadn’t even done… but might have.

~~

Yasha stayed with Molly.

She worried about him, even though he entered his room and smiled seeing her, told her he and Caleb had made up. He had never wanted to know about his past, and now he knew he was not from here.

He knew that he had originated in the nine hells. He tried to hide it, but she could tell it still bothered him.

He let her sit next to him, leaned against her, and it was reassuring. She had never known him not be free with physical affection. It was his way. Avoiding being close to those he loved and trusted, it was not something he ever did.

Yasha stayed with Molly, watching over his sleeping form, intent to protect him from his past if that’s what was needed. Even if it was just from bad dreams.

~~

Beauregard slept fitfully, tossing and turning, guilt chasing her into sleep.

Caleb’s fear haunted her, all the times she’d yelled and threatened. She fought Dairon again, and won, but Caleb was there and as terrified as ever.

She woke up after that, not knowing what time it was, but that it had to be stupid early. She didn’t want to go back to sleep, instead lit a candle and fished out a book she’d swiped from Jester a month or so ago, hoping that would take her mind off things.

~~

Nott stayed with Jester, sleeping lightly beside the cleric when she could sleep at all.

When Jester stirred fitfully, whimpered or cried out in her sleep, Nott woke. The goblin would speak soothingly, shake Jester awake sometimes to let her know she was okay. That everything was fine.

The first time Nott woke her, Jester tucked her face into Nott and just cried wordlessly. Nott stroked her hair gently, hugging her as best she could until Jester fell asleep again. She tried not to cry, tried to stay strong for Jester who needed that right now.

Jester had Caleb’s memories, some of them anyway, and she dreamed and cried in her sleep. Nott worried about Jester, but she worried about Caleb too. He still didn’t trust them, not completely. Who would be there to help him if his dreams were as bad as Jesters?

Nott held Jester and worried.

~~

Caduceus stayed awake meditating for a long while, seeking guidance from the Wildmother. His only answer was quiet and stillness, the scent of spring air and damp earth. Patience. That was the only answer he could devise. Patience would be needed.

~~

Caleb was exhausted in the morning, jaw aching with how tightly it was clenched when he woke. He felt wrung out and anxious, expecting some kind of retribution or punishment for the previous evening’s actions even as he tried to rationalize why the group would not. It didn’t keep him from expecting it, didn’t keep his hands from shaking as he held Frumpkin to his chest, but it was enough he ventured into the main room even though Beau and Fjord were the only two there.

He wasn’t sure how to act, what he was supposed to do. Neither of them seemed angry, though Fjord gave him a calculating look, they just seemed tired. Beau was sitting cross-legged on one of the mats again, a book in her lap that she flipped through listlessly.

“Beau.” Fjord muttered dully, causing the monk to look up at him then follow his gaze to Caleb.

Beauregard grunted acknowledgement, closing the book and leaving it on the mat as she stood up. Caleb tensed automatically as she approached, keeping his gaze carefully lowered.

“Hey, can you cast that disguise spell? Me and Fjord are gonna go down to the kitchens, get some food, and we’ll figure out what the plan is once everyone else is up.” Beau asked, explaining the current plan.

Caleb glanced up at her briefly, gaze flickering over to Fjord’s blank expression, then nodded. “Of course, Beauregard.”

With a short spoken incantation the two of them bore the same human image that he had placed on them the previous day. “It, ah, it will last for eight hours, unless dispelled.” Caleb informed them quietly.

“We’ll be back plenty before that.” Beau assured him, trying for a smile.

Caleb watched them leave, standing awkwardly alone in the room once the door had closed behind them. His eyes were drawn to the book left discarded on the mat, and Caleb hesitated long enough to glance at the doorway and back towards the sleeping rooms, then went to take the book. His head tilted slightly in surprise, not having though Beauregard would care for this type of material.

Curious, he had really only had access to academic texts in the past, Caleb found a place in the corner of the room to sit. Frumpkin joined him, the cat curling up in his lap, as Caleb opened the book to read.

It was amusing, if not exactly his taste. The dialogue and plot left a slight tilt of amusement on his face at times, the writing lackluster even to his low standard for non-academic text.

“Good morning, Caleb.” Jester’s voice interrupted him cheerfully sometime later, causing Caleb to jump and drop the book guiltily.

Caleb thought there was something off about her tone, and once his heart slowed from its frantic pace, he noticed the cleric looked just as exhausted as Fjord and Beauregard had. Nott was at her side looking in a similar state, worry in her eyes as she regarded him.

“Ah, good morning, Jester.” Caleb answered cautiously. He took a slow steadying breath, then nudged Frumpkin from his lap onto the floor with a silent direction to go to Jester. Caleb climbed to his feet as Frumpkin padded over to Jester. It was awkward sitting on the floor while the others stood and them towering above him only made his anxiety spike.

“Where are Fjord and Beau?” Nott asked, glancing back as Caduceus door opened and the Firbolg strolled slowly out to join them. “I heard them out here earlier.”

“They, ah, went to get breakfast.” Caleb answered.

“That’s nice.” Caduceus commented evenly, nodding his head.

“I hope they have some muffins or something really good.” Jester sighed, sitting on Beauregard’s abandoned mat to let Frumpkin climb onto her lap. She hugged the cat and smiled at Caleb, so he though perhaps he had done the right thing.

“So what exactly happened yesterday anyway?” Jester asked carefully, petting Frumpkin.

“Well…” Nott began, sitting beside Jester and taking out her flask. She didn’t drink, just stared at it as she explained. “After you cast your spell, Caleb got his memories back, something was wrong with you and we couldn’t figure out what. Caleb was just… staring, then Fjord grabbed him, Caleb started throwing spells, and then Molly vanished, and… well, there was a little issue getting Caleb to bring him back.”

“But he did bring him back.” Jester clarified. “So what was the issue?”

“Fjord asked him, Caleb refused, even when Fjord threatened him.” Nott replied, not sounding at all happy about it.

“Hmph.” Jester snorted. “No wonder Caleb was casting spells then, if Fjord was being a jerk.”

“Ah, that- that was, ah, I should not have… I- I am sorry, I-“ Caleb tried, but Jester interrupted him.

“Caleb, if someone is attacking you or hurting you, you are supposed to make them stop, okay.” Jester made a little face as she added. “Though, you should probably not attack your friends, maybe just tell us to stop if we do something, because it’s not good to fight with friends, you know.”

“Y-yes, Jester, but that- there is no… excuse for what- I should have listened to Fjord, or- or at least accepted the consequences without-.”

“Caleb, that was a really really terrible thing to have to remember, okay? So I totally understand, just maybe next time try talking about it instead of casting spells and maybe accidentally hurting one of us, okay?”

“Caleb promises not to do it again, don’t you Caleb.” Molly interrupted, sauntering into the room and inserting himself into the conversation with a coy smirk toward the wizard.

Caleb flushed red, looking down as he agreed softly. “A-ah, yes, Molly.”

“Good morning Molly! And Yasha!” Jester greeted them cheerfully, grinning.

“Glad you’re back to your usual self.” Molly quipped at her, giving a half grin. “Where’s-“

Molly’s question was interrupted by the door to the room opening, Beau and Fjord in their human disguises walking in with two baskets each of simple breakfast foods.

“Ah, perfect timing!” Molly grinned at them.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Beau huffed at him, bringing the food over to where Jester was sitting. “Now that you’re all awake, we can eat and figure out what the plan is.”

Once they had all found a place to settle, and Caleb had tentatively gone to sit beside Jester when the cleric beckoned him over, Fjord was the first to broach the topic of why they were in Rexxentrum in the first place.

“So, Caduceus. Did you get any information, a direction to go, from the Wildmother?”

“I got the sense that the person we are looking for is within the city.” Caduceus answered in his slow even fashion. “They’re not Xhorhasian, or from Xhorhas, so it’s someone from the Empire.”

“But we don’t know where, who they’re working with, or anything else?” Fjord sighed, already knowing the answer. As expected, Caduceus shook his head.

“Don’t worry Fjord, Nott and I will find out all that information for you. We will start our investigation… right after breakfast.” Jester grinned over at Fjord.

Fjord ran a hand down his face with a sigh, but there was the hint of an amused smile. Jeter and Nott would probably get into some trouble, upset more than a few shopkeepers, but it was their normal routine and that was reassuring in itself.

“I say we divide and conquer. Every group gets someone who can cast a message spell, just in case anything goes down. From what I heard at the kitchens, the whole mage scanning for disguises isn’t happening here.” Beau stated.

“That makes sense, if this assassin is supposed to be in disguise and it’s Trent behind it. Or an inside job at all, frankly.” Molly reasoned.

Fjord nodded at Molly, then looked over at Caleb. “Will this disguise spell stay up even if you have to cast a different spell. Or if something else happens?”

“It- it is, ah, it does not require concentration, no. So long as a dispel is not cast, the image will remain until the duration is reached.” Caleb answered the question nervously, uneasy and unable to read Fjord’s expression.

They fell into a short silence, each finishing whatever part of the breakfast they had taken, before Nott asked the next obvious question.

“So, who is going with who?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Split the party.
> 
> Because it is HARD to keep track of so many in one place. ;_;


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liam's story on tonight's CR Telephone Story game was.... amazing. All of them are the best. Shout out to the CR crew!
> 
> I miss CR so much.

Fjord didn’t like being alone with Caleb. The mage was nervous around him, and Fjord had a hard time trusting him. He didn’t think Caleb would purposefully do anything to hurt them, but the man was unpredictable, unstable even. It was worrying.

The mage had been on his best behavior ever since that day. Caleb stayed out of Fjord’s way, making it easy for the warlock to avoid him. He was agreeable when it came to dividing the group and who he would go with. He was agreeable casting the illusion spell on them all. He was so damned agreeable. Just like always. He didn’t trust it.

As much as Fjord didn’t trust Caleb, he didn’t trust himself. The longer he ignored his patron, the stronger its voice became. Uk’otoa was angry, and that anger leached into Fjord. Uk'otoa was frustrated, and that frustration brewed in Fjord. He’d bought himself some time back in Nicodranas, though that was likely less in part to his lackluster speech to Uk’otoa and more to his own stubborn refusal to let Caduceus (and the Wildmother) help.

He was indebted enough to Uk’otoa, he didn’t want to bring a deity into the mix. Better the devil he knew. And his choice had pleased his patron enough that Fjord was able to walk away from the call of the ocean, head deeper inland.

He was starting to hear the call again. _Return_. A word repeated in his dreams, echoing into his waking thoughts. He just needed more time… Time that was being _wasted_ wandering the streets of Rexxentrum.

Three days they had been here now and had learned _nothing_ useful. His group had been comprised of Molly, Yasha, and Caleb. Jester, Nott, and Beau were somewhat chaotic put together, but Caduceus evened them out to some degree. They had all been making a slow path around the city talking to whoever would stop to answer a question or chat.

After three days they weren’t even close to halfway through investigating the city. It was an impossible task, searching for a needle in a haystack. A needle that was trying to not be found. The other four hadn’t had any better luck, even though ALL of them had used the full eight hours time that Caleb’s disguise spell lasted each day.

At the end of each day, they would all met up again at the dorm room and exchanged what information they’d learned. So far it was pathetic.

There was a celebration for the peace; they already knew that. It was going to be across the whole city; new information, but useless and not exactly secrets they were looking for. There’d been an important looking convoy come through the city, but it had entered the castle grounds and no one had seen who it was. It was confirmation that the plan involved some subterfuge regarding a Xhorasian emissary, but it still wasn’t the lead they needed to try and make any plans.

Needless to say, they weren’t any closer to being able to actually **do** anything to prevent whatever plan Trent had. They didn’t even know what the plan _was_. Fjord had hoped they would discover the assassin was staying somewhere in the city proper where they would have at least a chance to intercept and maybe question them.

The days of inaction frustrated Fjord, the tedium… there was nothing to distract or quiet the steady thrum of the ocean in the back of his mind.

Day four and they were at it again.

Caleb was next to useless beyond the initial spell, something that Fjord understood even as it grated on his nerves. The mage was apparently awkward at all social interactions that weren’t formal in nature, not just with them. Since the whole point was to not be notice, more often than not Caleb hung back when it came to talking. Molly took the lead often enough, which took some stress off Fjord, though he could almost _feel_ Yasha watching him when that happened.

At least it was better than Caduceus. So long as he focused on not standing too tensely and glaring at passerby’s, Yasha didn’t read too much into him.

“Fjord…” Caleb spoke the warlock’s name softly, tone hesitant and nervous.

Caleb was not comfortable being alone with Fjord, even though Molly and Yasha were a handful of meters away and they were ALL out in a semi-public area.

Fjord hadn’t relaxed around him since they had pseudo fought. Caleb did not blame him for being upset with him, and accepted Fjord likely did nothing in deference to the majority decision not to discipline him for the action. His clear displeasure with Caleb only served to make the wizard more anxious around him, much as Caleb tried his best to fix the mistake.

There were no rules, no repercussions for failure, so Caleb was left adrift with no way to set the balance back where it should be. Fjord remained displeased with him. Much as Caleb would prefer to stay out of the warlock’s attentions, he could not think of any of the others who would agree to the only clear option left to them.

Caleb had watched as Fjord had grown increasingly frustrated as all their questions and investigations had led to dead ends. He was frustrated with their lack of progress and Caleb know one sure way to correct that, if they trusted him not to betray them. It was not… his preference, the thought filled him with fear, but perhaps this would alleviate the unbalance.

Fjord grunted a questioning tone, barely glancing at Caleb as he stood stiffly with his arms crossed.

Caleb drew in slow breath, trying to calm himself and keep his tone even. “It… would, ah, would seem there is not- not much information of importance to ah, to be found out here. In the city.”

“Yeah?” Fjord replied in a short question.

Caleb twitched, fighting the instinct to cringe at the gravely sound of Fjord’s voice, only able to read annoyance and irritation in the tone. He kept his gaze down, trying to appear obedient and compliant, hoping his suggestion would not break the thin patience Fjord held toward him. “If- if there is n-no advantage or, ah, or information to be found by hiding your presence here… perhaps, ah…that is… ah… Trent would expect me to report to him upon our arrival?”

Caleb floundered under Fjord’s gaze, breathing the last part out in a rush as his shoulders tensed in expectation. He didn’t dare look up at the other, did not want to provoke his ire.

“What _exactly_ are you implying, Caleb?” Fjord questioned.

Caleb could not stop a glance up at him, wincing and looking away at the stern expression. “D-doubtless, he will- will h-have instructions for me… I- I would tell you what he planned, or- or would at least know something of… what…”

Caleb trailed off, stomach sinking with dread as Fjord let out a long sigh. He tossed a quick glance at Molly, he and Yasha involved in a discussion and paying no attention to Caleb and Fjord. He dropped his gaze again, repressing the urge to flinch as Fjord made a slightly movement.

“Caleb. We’re not going to ask you to do that.” Fjord ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he closed his eyes. He couldn’t deny it was a sure-fire way to get some information, something to make counter plans against. But Caleb offering did nothing for the frustration that had been building inside.

“I- ah, t-thank you, for, ah, for that consideration. But… I do not, ah I do not think there is much, ah, much to be learned. Here.” Caleb explained cautiously. His gaze traveled back over to Molly and Yasha, heart beating quickly as Fjord said nothing. He didn’t want to push the offer. As much as it truly _would_ be expected that he find a way to visit Trent once in Rexxentrum, he did not look forward to a lone conversation with the elder mage.

“Your orders were originally to gain our trust and wait, right?” Fjord eventually asked.

“Y-yes, Fjord.”

“Might work better if he thinks we don’t know he knows we’re in town.” Fjord mused. “Say during the course of our investing, you slipped away to pay a visit to the Academy. It’s a believable story.”

Caleb shuddered, keeping still though his body expected a ‘reminder’ of where his loyalties should lay. Fjord didn’t make a move toward him however, simply continued speaking in the same even tone.

“He might be more free with information if he believes you’re following his orders.”

Fjord grimaced, gaze traveling over Caleb appraisingly then glancing over to where Molly was chatting up a young town crier, Yasha playing silent wingman. He doubted either one of them would be a fan of this idea. Or any of the others if he were honest. He ground his teeth, already feeling a pounding pressure in his temples at the thought of the arguing that would take place should he bring it up with the rest of the group. Or gods forbid Caleb bring it up.

Impatience itched under his skin, a desire to do something worthwhile, to make _some_ progress so he could go back to-

Fjord shook his head, running a hand down his face as he tried to banish the pull he was starting to feel, the scent of saltwater that had no place in this city.

“Fine. Message Molly or Yasha, let them know we’re following a lead and we’ll meet them back at the dorms.” Fjord finally agreed. He felt an odd twist of pleasure at the decision, the lack of arguing, the immediate obedience as Caleb pulled out a copper wire and send the message to Yasha.

He felt guilty a moment later; he hadn’t meant to make it an order, knew he shouldn’t _like_ the feeling. He didn’t… He _didn’t_.

Fjord gave Yasha a short reassuring nod as she glanced their way, then turned and began walking towards the Shimmer Ward where the Soltryce Academy was located.

It really was the best option; they were getting nowhere.

~~

The Shimmer Ward was in the center of the city, walled in with towering walls made of pale yellow stone. They passed rows and rows of houses, most of which Caleb knew were home to the mages of the crown who did not serve one of the Assembly leaders. Many of the windows were dark and empty, looking of neglect.

It was no surprise, given the war.

The closer they drew to the Academy, the more residents were to be found. Caleb took the lead as they came to a division in the path, Fjord stopping and watching him expectantly. The mage was familiar with this area, though still not comfortable with Fjord at his back. He followed the path northwest, the rising walkways and ivory halls of the Academy soon coming into view above the surrounding rooftops.

Fjord reached out to grab Caleb’s shoulder as they entered the massive, garden-like campus, pulling the wizard to the side and out of view. He ignored the flash of fear on Caleb’s face, a more pressing though occurring to him. “You _can_ drop just your illusion, right? Without dropping it on the others?”

“Ah, y-yes, Fjord. I- do you wish me to do so now?” Caleb answered quickly.

“Hm. Might as well. Whether I look like this or my normal self, I doubt I’d get a very warm welcome here.” Fjord stated gruffly, waving a hand at himself. Caleb had given them the visage of students of the Soul, making it easier to get in and out of the dorms and get information. He let go of Caleb, the wizard stepping back and making a motion with his hand as he muttered a word.

The illusion vanished from Caleb in an instant and Fjord nodded as he looked down at his own still human seeming self. He frowned at Caleb in consideration, ignoring the frustration and unease creeping in at this plan. “So, you’ll go in there, talk to Trent, come back here? Message me if _anything_ goes wrong.”

“Yes, Fjord. It…should not take long.” Caleb replied, arm folded carefully behind him as he answered.

Fjord’s frown deepened as Caleb stood there, looking like he was trying far too hard to be innocent and trustworthy. Fjord shook his head again, sighing. “Alright. I’ll wait here.”

At Fjord’s words, Caleb inclined his head in what was almost a not quite bow, turning and walking away.

It was just the sleeplessness, the strain of having nothing useful to do, the stress of the small voice in the back of his mind. They were wasting their time hiding, not finding anything. The others wouldn’t be happy, but a decision had to be made. Something had to change, they couldn’t just keep drifting.

Fjord crossed his arms, one finger tapping a restless rhythm as he waited, teeth grinding together as Caleb vanished around a turn in the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote: I think some comments have been vanished? There used to be some onion headliner type comments that were HILARIOUS. But are no more. I don't know what happened.  
> Yesh, I'm a nerd that re-reads your comments because you are beautiful people.


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. This went a little long.
> 
> Hopefully some character things/choices make sense. Hrm. If not, mayhaps they will in the future.

Walking alone through the campus of the Academy it was easy to fall into the routine he’d had before meeting the Mighty Nine.

He passed more students the closer he drew to the main building, most of which glanced at him but kept moving on their way. It was normal, it was the world he’d lived and grown up in. Anyone not wearing the uniform of a student was either not affiliated with the Assembly or was a full member. Either way, the students normally kept their distance. Such was Caleb’s experience, anyway, though he now considered that might have been due to Trent’s ever present figure leading the way.

The main building came into view quickly, broad marble staircase leading up to elaborate wooden doors. It was glittering and ornate, an exact opposite of the dorms he had been staying in for the past few days. There were no guards here as there had been in Zadash, only students and the occasional teacher. The inside of the building was well lit and spacious, the open floor fairly empty and mainly meant for decoration alone.

Hallways extend along the sides leading to classrooms, students moving past and through the open area as they whispered lowly between themselves. There was a large desk near the entrance to the building, though was empty at the moment.

Caleb paid it all little attention, well used to the sight. Instead he continued to the winding stairway that spiraled in a loop to the second floor, a group of three students parting around him as he walked. He had just turned down the hall that would lead to Ikithon’s study only to be greeted with the sight of the mage in question walking his way.

The both of them stopped, staring at each other in a short moment of surprise before Caleb immediately dropped his gaze. His heart skipped, muscles tensing as he waited for correction.

“Caleb.”

Caleb looked up, brows pulling together in confusion. That was… that was not right. He watched Trent warily, watching as Ikithon drew closer in even steps. He stopped slightly out of arms reach of Caleb, returning Caleb's gaze.

“You’ve arrived early.”

“Yes.” Caleb replied evenly. “There was the opportunity to bring them here, and I did so.”

Trent did nothing, though Caleb was breaking the rules. It was not right. Ikithon was not so lenient to let even a minor mistake pass in his presence, much less _this_. Caleb paused as a student walking across the hall other end of the hall, remaining silent until they were out of sight and the footsteps had faded. “Who are you?”

Trent grinned, the expression out of place on the older mage’s face. He moved forward suddenly, pressing Caleb against the tapestry against wall, arms caging the wizard in. Before Caleb could draw a breath, could even process, there were lips on his, tongue licking at his mouth as soft curves pressed against his body.

Teeth nipped at Caleb’s lower lip and the mage shook himself from the shock to shove the not-Trent away. The person stepped back only an inch with a chuckled, still smiling. “Who else? Eodwulf only listens to one person anymore.”

“ _Astrid?_ ” Caleb breathed the question, eyes narrowing with indignant fury. “You were in Tal’Dorei, what are you _doing_ here?”

Astrid frowned, a warning note in her tone as she placed a hand on Caleb’s chest. "Questions, Caleb? Really?

He moved away from her touch, sliding along the wall and moving to the middle of the corridor. “Astrid what-?”

“Ich habe dir gesagt, ich würde dich bald sehen.”

Both Astrid and Caleb turned at the intruding voice.

Caleb frowned, puzzled by the sight of a dark skinned Drow with shock white shoulder length hair. He stood casually, one hand on his hip as he regarded the two mages in the hallway.

“You’re not supposed to speak Zemnian, dear, you know this.” Astrid chided gently, though Caleb could hear a hint of exasperation in her voice. “It ruins your cover. And you know you’re not supposed to come here disguised like that. I was on my way to collect you.”

Astrid shook her head, muttering a short incantation and gesturing elegantly at the Drow. His form melted away to reveal a familiar broad shoulder mage with short dark brown hair. The image of Trent Ikithon melted from her form as well, revealing Astrid’s true visage. Dark brown hair fell just below her shoulder blades, longer than Caleb remembered. A scar ran from the top of one brow down to the bottom of her chin and, though her ornate robes covered her to the wrist, Caleb knew there were matching scars to his own on her arms.

Eodwulf smiled at Astrid as he strode forward, expression almost carefree. It was out of place in the tension of the hall and was a complete change from Caleb’s last meeting with his old friend. Both of them were so different…

Caleb’s brow drew together in puzzlement as he realized Astrid was not surprised to see Eodwulf, for all she should have thought him dead as well. Had he been the only one _not_ to know. There had once been some connection between them, for all he had not seen her in years… had she changed so much?

“Astrid, why is Eodwulf here? It makes no sen-.”

Abruptly he was cut off, Astrid lashing out to strike him across the face. His cheek stung, though when he reached up there was no blood on his fingers.

“You forget your place. You don’t _question_ , you obey. Remember where your loyalties lay, _Caleb_. Or I will have to tell Master Ikithon of your disobedience.” Astrid warned, tone such a low hissing reflection of Trent that Caleb automatically dropped his gaze.

His muscles tensed as his heart skipped, body submitting on instinct even as his thoughts rebelled at the idea. Of course, he had not forgotten that rule, he just never expected Astrid to enforce it. Or any. She was more like Trent than he cared to admit.

“Oh, give the kid a break. He’s new, doesn’t know the rules yet.” Eodwulf spoke up, moving to throw an arm casually around Caleb’s shoulders.

Caleb glanced up at him sidelong in confusion. New? He recognized the words, the phrase once spoken over him in a different context what felt like a life-time ago. He wished he could ask Eodwulf what he meant, now and from days earlier. With Astrid here so furious, and loyal to Ikithon, he would not dare.

Eodwulf chuckled, the sound tapering off as he stiffened beside Caleb. He released the shorter wizard, straightening up as folded his arms behind him. “We’re supposed to bring him to Ikithon when he shows up.”

Caleb looked over at Eodwulf, confused once again at the change in tone and expression. Why was he acting so strangely? One moment lighthearted as when they’d been young and naïve children, the next acting like the most recent memory Caleb had of him. The soldier and battle mage, ready to strike at the slightest order to attack.

Astrid gave Eodwulf a curt nod, adapting to the change in demeanor with an alacrity that told Caleb it was not an odd occurrence. Her gaze trained back on him, giving him a curt order as she turned. “Follow me.”

She led them further down the corridor, past the classrooms towards Ikithon’s private studies. It was a familiar path, every step building the anxiety in Caleb’s stomach. It wasn’t as terrifying as Trent’s personal residence, the room with the crystals and experiments not readily available, but Caleb did not kid himself there would be no pain involved in this meeting.

The study was everything he remembered, something that should not be a surprise considering he had only been away for a few weeks. It had felt like a lifetime. The room was well lit, full of arcane items and books, desks for study, papers with spells and notes scattered across surfaces of all types, vials of different potions with neatly written labels. It was a mix of chaos and order in true academic fashion.

Ikithon looked up from the one thing in the room that was _not_ related to the study of the arcane. Caleb found himself studying it for a moment before remembering himself, folding his arms behind him and dropping his gaze.

Trent’s expression was stony as he slowly turned his regarded Caleb, lips pressed together in a thin line. His gaze flickered over to Eodwulf, evaluation the man’s expression and attitude, then turned to Astrid. “Take Eodwulf and wait outside.”

Caleb heartbeat thundered in his chest, glancing over to see Astrid nod with a slight smile curling across her lips. She looked over at Eodwulf, stepping in front of him to block the glare he was directing at Ikithon. “Darling, come along. We have things to attend to, you can see Caleb later.”

Eodwulf’s frown turned to confusion, eyes focusing on Astrid. “Caleb?”

“Bren. You can see Bren later.”

There was definitely something wrong going on there, though Caleb’s attention was quickly brought back to Ikithon as the two left. He flinched as the door closed behind the two of them, shoulders tensing as he waited.

“I presume you have pleased them to some extent.” Trent commented after a moment examining his former student. “Given your abysmal performance at first impressions, I expected the barbarians to leave more of a mark on you.”

“There are two clerics in the group.” Caleb informed him, unsure if it would please Ikithon more to think they treated him as roughly as he deserved, rather than the gentleness the Mighty Nine had extended so far. Reminding Trent of the clerics would explain the lack of injuries on his person. It was easier than trying to explain their reluctance to correct his behavior, their displeasure at Trent's methods of teaching.

Caleb realized the reminder was a mistake moments after it left his lips, Ikithon’s expression twisting with irritation.

Electricity danced across Trent’s fingers, the same spell Caleb had used on Fjord three days ago. Caleb held his breath as Trent approached focusing on remaining still and not moving. He’d gotten complacent with the Nine, they allowed him to step away and even stopped when he did. That would not be tolerated here, he knew the rules.

Caleb clenched his teeth against a scream as Trent made contact, electric fire running through his body as he fought to remain standing and in one place. He was shaking, breath coming in ragged gasps, when Trent finally stopped.

“You know better, boy.” Trent scolded, giving him a disappointed look. Caleb flushed with shame. He did know better, knew not to attempt to correct Ikithon’s knowledge. Trent took a step back, lifting his chin as he regarded Caleb for a moment before asking. “You have succeeded then, they trust you?”

“Yes, I- I believe… most of them do. Yes.” Caleb answered, wincing slightly as he stumbled over the words for a brief moment. Trent noticed as well, eyes narrowing as electricity flickered in his hands He stepped closer to Caleb again, displeasure clear on his face.

“ _Most_ is not what I asked for, boy.”

“I-.” Caleb choked off a scream of pain as Trent cast the spell again, agony thrumming through him until he fell to his knees and broke contact. He continued the apology, as was expected, breath coming in short pants. “I… am sorry, master.”

Caleb remained where he knelt, eyes downcast as Trent stepped away and circled around him. He hated himself for this, for feeling only fear and obedience towards this man. He should be angry, should fight back. This was the man who had ordered his parents death… It had been Caleb who obeyed, however, and his disgust at himself mingled with the shame of discipline and the fear of further pain.

He had a mission, a purpose to this. If he could succeed, could do this one thing right, perhaps Fjord would be pleased.

“At least you have not completely failed at your task.” Trent sneered, stopping in front on Caleb once more and looking down at him. “What story did you tell them to allow you out on your own, if only ‘most’ of them trust you?”

Caleb closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his composure. Trent would see through a lie, and Caleb was too afraid of the known consequences of lies to try and tell one. Thankfully, truth in this instance was easy. He merely thought of Molly, Yasha, any of the other’s but Fjord. “I told them nothing. They are… unaware I have come here.”

Trent lifted an eyebrow, though when Caleb dared glance up at him he could not determine if Ikithon approved or not. Trent remained quiet, prompting Caleb to explain further. Fjord had agreed to this story, he… he wouldn’t disapprove of Caleb telling Trent this.

“They… have suspicious, of…plots regarding the King. They have been… searching the city. I- I made my way here during that time. It would, ah, be expected I return.”

Trent smiled, the expression cold as he stepped forward and placed a hand on top of Caleb’s head, a parody of parental comfort. Caleb shuddered lightly, gut twisting in knots of anticipation though he forced himself to remain still. No pain followed, though Caleb knew it was a thin line he tread. Trent’s hand gripped his hair, pulling his head back until Caleb’s face lifted, though he knew better than to meet Ikithon’s gaze.

“At least you haven’t forgotten your training.” Trent chuckled darkly, releasing Caleb and turning away from him. Caleb almost sagged with relief, swallowing thickly and paying attention as Trent began to issue instructions.

~~

Fjord shifted restlessly, leaning against the stone wall behind him. He’d been waiting for well over an hour now, probably longer. Just where the hell was Caleb? So far, he hadn’t seen too many people, just some students that glanced at him and hurried on their way. He wasn’t sure what would happen if someone _not_ a student were to challenge him for standing around. He was a little surprised (and grateful) he hadn’t been approached yet.

**_Fjord, it’s Jester. Where are you guys? Molly and Yasha are back and said you’d gone to follow some lead. I tried to message Caleb-_ **

Fjord sighed at the cut off message, trying to think what to respond with. After just a moment another message came through, Jester apparently intent on finishing whatever she was saying.

**_-but he didn’t answer. What’s going on? Are you okay, do we need to come find you? Let me know, okay, we’re really worried._ **

Fjord frowned, brow furrowing. Caleb hadn’t answered? It had been long enough, surely he’d finished talking to Trent by now… Unease curled in Fjord’s stomach, almost overshadowed by a frustrated suspicion. He tried to push it away, focusing on replying to Jester’s second message. “Everything’s fine. We’ll be headed back soon.”

He hoped they would anyway. Impatience was itching at him again, along with the ever present frustration. Why had he let Caleb go off on his own? He should have gone with him… Fjord could disguise himself, it would have been nothing to take the image of an Academy student.

Another ten or so minutes passed, Fjord growling lowly to himself as the illusion spell Caleb had cast at the beginning of the day faded. That was it, he wasn’t waiting here any longer. He didn’t know if he was worried, angry, or some odd mix of the two.

Fjord cast a disguise spell on himself, putting on a human appearance with the robes of the Academy. The steady thrum of the ocean in the back of his mind pushed him to summon his falchion, to carve a path to- No… Fjord shook his head, forcing himself to walk calmly along the path Caleb had taken earlier.

_Soon. I’ll be back soon._ He silently told the voice.

First, he needed to find their stray mage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ich habe dir gesagt, ich würde dich bald sehen = I told you I would see you soon.


	57. Chapter 57

Fjord tried to be inconspicuous while making his way along the path Caleb had taken. Few looked his way, thankfully, and he looped around to approach the main building from the side. He had no idea where Caleb might be in there and had no way of messaging him to find out. He bit back an angry noise, eyes narrowing at the Academy.

Searching room by room was going to be a waste of time, and there was always the chance he would miss Caleb and the wizard would go back to where he had been waiting earlier. The possibility of searching only to return to find Caleb standing idly waiting for him was a new level of frustrating, but it had been too long already. He couldn’t stand waiting any more. Fjord made it only a few feet toward the main building when the doors opened.

Fjord let out a curse, ducking around the side of one of the buildings as four figures exited the double wooden doors, making their way down the elaborate marble steps. He recognized Trent immediately, Caleb walking slightly behind and to his left. Caleb was speaking, or at least Fjord could see his mouth moving though he was too far away to even hope to hear anything.

A step behind them was…Eodwulf? What was _he_ doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be on the run, a rogue mage? Fjord didn’t recognize the female beside Eodwulf, but looking at her demeanor and the way she carried herself, he’d guess she was higher on the food chain than Caleb, but still lower than Trent. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Caleb with his gaze on the ground as Trent apparently spoke to the three of them. Eodwulf’s eyes were on Caleb, strangely enough, and the female’s attention focused on Trent.

They didn’t stand there talking for long, soon walking once more. Fjord shadowed them, trying to keep out of sight without losing them. Eodwulf slowed at one point, head turning slightly in Fjord’s direction. Caleb mirrored the movement, stiffening and stumbling over nothing a moment later. The action caused him to brush against Trent in front of him.

Trent’s curse instantly drew Eodwulf’s attention, the female putting a hand on his shoulder as he took a half stride toward Caleb and Trent. The older mage was glaring at Caleb, turned to face him with a furious expression. After a tense moment, Fjord watched as Trent grabbed Caleb by the shoulder, drawing him closer. Fjord could swear there were sparks flickering across Trent’s hand, down Caleb’s form, but a few moments later Trent was pushing Caleb towards the left path as the woman led Eodwulf toward the other that lead toward the palace.

Fjord kept still for a moment, realizing he had come very close to being discovered, and waited until the other three had grown distant. When he felt confident that they wouldn’t turn back, Fjord followed after Caleb. He knew where Caleb _should_ be headed and cut around to meet him there. He made his way down a space between two houses, reaching out to grab Caleb as he passed by.

Fjord’s hand twisted into the fabric of Caleb’s coat, pulling him between two buildings and shoving him firmly against the wall. Caleb’s shoulder burned with pain, skin and nerves still thrumming with Trent’s earlier corrections and this new irritation of the wound. He grit his teeth against the pain as Fjord held him there, keeping his gaze averted and waiting.

“Caleb, where the _hell_ have you been? It’s been over an hour!” Fjord questioned, furious for all he kept his voice a low heated whisper.

“I am s-.” Caleb cut off with a wince as Fjord’s fist tightened, causing his shoulder to blaze.

“I don’t want apologies, I want an explanation.” Fjord growled, eyes unusually dark. “I saw Trent talking to you and the other two before you parted ways. _What_ did you tell him…?”

“O-only that you suspected a p-plot against the king, were searching the city.” Caleb answered obediently, pushing past the pain, fear, and panic to speak. He let out what was almost a whimper as Fjord put more pressure on his shoulder, a breath of relief coming a moment later as the warlock released him.

Fjord stepped back, putting a few feet of distance between them as he frowned, eyes roaming appraisingly over Caleb. His brows drew together, taking in the way Caleb held himself, favoring the shoulder Fjord had grabbed. “You’re hurt?”

“I- I am… It is, ah, n-not-.” He flinched as Fjord swore and stepped forward.

“You were supposed to _message_ me if something went wrong.” Fjord scolded, pulling out a healing potion and shoving it into Caleb’s hands.

Caleb looked at the vial of red liquid blankly before anxiously turning his gaze on Fjord. As impossible as it would have been to message Fjord, should he have even known that discipline from Ikihton’s hand counted as something going ‘wrong’, he had still failed to follow Fjord’s orders. Yet he was being given healing? Or was he meant to wait for Fjord’s discipline, the potion meant to repair the damage before they returned to the others?

“Oh, for-“ Fjord grumbled, stepping forward again. He wrapped his hand over Caleb’s, making sure the wizard kept ahold of the potion, then took the stopper from the top of it. He met Caleb’s gaze, giving a firm order before stepping back. “Drink it.”

Caleb obeyed. He wasn’t willing to risk Fjord’s wrath, had already pushed the warlock’s patience too far. He still held onto the hope that what he had learned would please Fjord, right the balance between them again. He was being loyal to them, had not told Ikithon anything that would endanger them. Fjord had given him a healing potion, had not punished him for failing, that… that must mean he was somewhat pleased.

The pain in his shoulder faded, the inflamed skin cooling into a dull ache. Then sensation traveled along his chest and back, the spiderweb of pain also dulling to a manageable level. Caleb offered the empty vial to Fjord, keeping his gaze lowered. He spoke carefully, keeping his voice even and making sure to sound properly grateful. And he _was_ grateful, thankful for the generosity of the healing, the lack of punishment for his most recent disobedience.

“Thank you, Fjord.”

Fjord grunted, apparently unimpressed, and took the empty vial. Caleb folded his hands behind him, awaiting further questions or orders.

“At least tell me you learned something useful.”

“Yes, Fjord. I… believe so. Trent instr-.”

“Not here.” Fjord cut him off, holding up a hand though Caleb hardly needed a secondary reminder. He’d stopped speaking the instant Fjord had interrupted. “Your spell’s worn off, in case you didn’t notice, and the others are already getting worried. You can fill us all in at once.”

Caleb’s throat was tight with unease, unsure if he was being blamed for the spells limited duration. He had told them the time limit, almost reminded Fjord of it again now, but he kept silent. The recent memory of Trent’s displeasure at having his knowledge corrected was too fresh, he did not want a repeat with Fjord.

“Let me explain things to the others first, got it?” Fjord told him, moving to peer out of the alley they were in before leading the way toward the city proper. He barely glancing back at the mage slightly behind him as they walked.

Caleb nodded obediently. He wasn’t sure what needed to be explained. He assumed they would likely be somewhat displeased with the method of obtaining the information, but surely the results far outweighed the risk of Trent knowing they were within Rexxentrum.

Arms folded carefully behind him, Caleb shadowed Fjord’s footsteps as the warlock led the way back to the Cobalt Soul.

~~

“You. Did. _What_?!”

Fjord’s explanation of where he and Caleb had been was not met with much approval. Or any approval, Caleb thought, subtly evaluation the expressions of the rest of the Nine.

Mollymauk was certainly the most displeased, eyes near blazing red as they flickered between Caleb and Fjord. Even knowing, repeating to himself, how Molly had promised not to hurt him, Caleb was irrationally glad Fjord was standing in front of him. The warlock didn’t fully block him from Molly, wasn’t even doing it on purpose, but it was an illusion of safety that kept Caleb from spiraling into a panic of fear.

“Now, Molly, hear me out-“

“Hear you out!? What the fuck is wrong with you??” Molly shouted, furious.

“We weren’t learning anything wandering around out here!” Fjord argued, calm tone slipping away into an anger that matched the purple Tiefling. “Three days and nothing! Caleb learned more in an hour than we-“

“YOU LEFT HIM ALONE WITH THAT MANIAC FOR AN _HOUR_?”

Caleb flinched, stepping back at the raw rage in Molly’s voice. Despite all attempts otherwise, despite knowing Molly disliked it, Caleb was very afraid of him. He remembered wondering what it would look like for Molly’s eyes to blaze red with fury. The reality was more terrifying than he’d imagined. He had expected them to displeased, but this…

“Woah, woah, hey!” Beau stepped in between Fjord and Molly, holding a hand up at each of them. “Let’s just calm down a minute okay?”

Jester stepped up beside Molly, eyes worried as she watched him. “Come on, Molly, you’re scaring Caleb.”

Caleb shuddered, ice filling his stomach as her words drew Molly’s gaze toward him. The last thing he wanted was to be the center of _any_ of their attention right now.

“Fine. Alright. Fine.” Molly grumbled, stepping back and looking away briefly. His eyes soon turned back to Fjord. “We’re not finished talking about this.”

Fjord rolled his shoulders, letting out a slow breath as Molly turned away and did almost the same. Yasha and Caduceus followed Molly, the Aasimar woman speaking to him lowly for a moment.

Caleb tensed as Fjord walked away from him, going to the opposite side of the room from Molly, subsequently leaving Caleb alone and feeling far too vulnerable. He stepped back, pressing against the wall as Beau shifted carefully forward towards him. His heart raced, even as she held her hands peaceable out on either side of her.

“Hey, you’re fine, okay? No one’s mad at you.”

“I- I o-offered to- to go…” Caleb admitted, gaze flickering up at her, then back down to the floor, skittering around to the others nervously.

“Okay, yeah, not the best move, but it’s fine.” Beau assured. “You can tell us what you found out, eveyone’ll cool off, no one’s getting hurt, okay?”

“Y-yes, Beauregard. Would- Ah, w-would you allow me to- to cast the mansion spell?” Caleb asked, trying not to cringe at the request. He hurried to explain, anxiety thickening his accent. “It- it would be safer, so no one could- could… scry or overhear.”

“Yeah, sure, yeah.” Beauregard agreed, dropping her hands and backing away from him.

Caleb moved forward, a slight tremble to his hands as he took out the required components and knelt near the center of the room. He was too aware of their eyes on him, voice shaking as he spoke the incantations, only just managing to get them out past the thickness in his throat.

He thought- knew they wouldn’t hurt him, he believed them… he… he _did_ … but that didn’t erase the fear, didn’t quell the doubt. Fjord did not seem to be displeased with him any longer, but the others were now angry with Fjord. Caleb did not regret the decision; it had needed to be done and had brought him back into Fjord’s good will; he had simply not foreseen the extreme reaction of the others.

The foyer of the mansion was the same as it had been the first time he cast the spell; the atmosphere clean, warm, and fresh with numerous chambers and hallways beyond.

At Fjord’s request, one of the mansion’s servants led the group toward a comfortable sitting room.

“Hey…”

Caleb looked over at Molly as the Tiefling sidled up beside him as they walked, stomach knotting with tension briefly. The anxiety eased, seeing the now calm and almost guilty expression of Molly’s face. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t shouting, simply held a soft expression as he quirked a half smile.

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Molly asked, concern in his voice as his brow furrowed, gaze skimming over Caleb.

“I am, ah, not injured.” Caleb said as answer, uneasy and guilty at the small lie. The majority of the burns had healed thanks to the potion Fjord had given him, and the rest were not so severe he could not ignore them. Short of ordering him to strip himself of his shirt, there was no way for Molly to know. Caleb knew telling Molly that Trent had disciplined him during the…interview… would only upset the Tiefling. And fuel his anger toward Fjord. Neither was an outcome Caleb particularly wanted.

Tension leached out of Molly as he sighed with relief. “Good. Good…”

“Molly, I-“

“No, you don’t need to apologize, it’s fine.” Molly interrupted, shaking his head.

Caleb followed him toward one of the large sofas of the sitting room, the rest of the group likewise finding a place to sit for the discussion. “No, Molly I was not going to- I…I mean I…” Caleb fumbled for a moment, nearly denying the intent to apologize and backtracking at the small voice of warning at the back of his mind. He’d done something wrong, he _should_ beg forgiveness.

But they didn’t want that. And… and he hadn’t done anything wrong, Beau had said as much. He’d been trying to help them.

“I asked Fjord to let me… It… was the easiest way to find out what, ah, what Trent was planning.” Caleb tried again to explain, this time Molly listening quietly. “It was necessary.”

“That’s what Dairon said about punching you in the face, doesn’t make it right though.” Beau snorted, interrupting their conversation as she threw herself into an armchair adjacent to them.

“What?” Molly frowned in confusion, looking at the monk.

“Back in Zadash. That it was ‘necessary’.” Beau explained, making air quotes with her hands. “That’s not really the kinda necessary we like to do, Caleb.”

“Now that we’ve all assured ourselves Caleb’s still in once piece, do you think we can move on and hear what Trent’s planning?” Fjord stated, settling into his own seat and leaning forward to brace his elbows on his legs, hands clasp together as he looked around at all of them. His gaze settled on the wizard, Fjord tilting his head in invitation. “Caleb?”


	58. Chapter 58

Caleb took a steadying breath, glancing over at Molly for reassurance.

“Start from the beginning. Tell us what happened when you left Fjord.” Molly suggested gently.

Caleb nodded. He could do that.

“I went to the… main building of the Academy, where Ikithon’s study and office are. If he were to be anywhere on, ah, on the campus of the Academy, it would be there. Astrid was there, bearing his appearance, met me in the hall outside of his office. Ah, Astrid ist, ah, is another former student of Trent. She, Eodwulf, and I.” Caleb explained, seeing some confusion at Astrid’s name. “Eodwulf arrived shortly after, disguised as a Drow. It would appear he has been staying at the palace, a guest of the king as an emissary from Xhorhas.”

“No wonder we couldn’t find any sign of him out here then.” Beau muttered.

“How is it possible Eodwulf is here though.” Fjord demanded, schooling his tone as he received multiple glares. “Isn’t he considered a rogue?”

“Ja, in a sense.” Caleb answered, picking at his sleeves, and avoiding the warlock’s gaze. “He… he had been reported dead. None of the crowns guard would be searching for him. None at the Academy would look twice at him. He is there, within the city and the Academy, he must be under Assembly control. Otherwise, why would he walk free.”

“Eodwulf is to play the part of the Xhorhasian spy/assassin/emissary.” Caduceus summated, interrupting Fjord as the warlock opened his mouth to speak. “What part does this Astrid play?”

“I… am not certain. About either.” Caleb admitted, flush creeping up the back of his neck. He suspected, given her comments and actions he had observed, that she was there because of Eodwulf, keeping him in check. When had Ikithon lost control over one of his students? That he had lost some control over Eodwulf was obvious, but what did it mean? Eodwulf had always had a fondness for Astrid, but did it go so far as to be obedience?

“Did you talk to Trent?” Nott interrupted his thoughts, prompting him to continue. “After you spoke to Astrid and Eodwulf.”

“Yes, they, ah, they brought me to him. Had received instructions to do so when I had arrived.” Caleb explained.

“Trent asked of my performance, of my task at serving all of you, what excuse I had given you that I would be allowed away alone and expected a reason. I informed him that… you had suspicion of a plot against the king, that you searched the city. He- he was satisfied with that answer.”

Caleb tensed, even though Fjord had approved of telling Ikithon as much. There were few enough excuses to have given Trent that would not have caused suspicion. Truth had worked. Ikithon did not know _who_ the Nine suspected, nor did he have any cause to believe Caleb was not unwaveringly loyal to him.

It was no less terrifying to tell the group something that could easily be taken as betrayal.

“He asked… later… how- how you had come to such conclusion. I… informed him it was due to, ah, to one of the Cobalt Soul. B-Beauregard had mentioned before that- that some of the Soul m-might be involved. I… led him to believe that is the- the source of your suspicion.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Maybe he’ll go on a wild goose chase looking for a leak. Might flush out some other traitors.” Beau commented lightly.

Some of the tension unwound in Caleb’s chest, relieved that Beauregard took no offence.

“So Trent doesn’t suspect us as a threat, think’s we’re looking in the complete opposite direction.” Fjord stated. “What’s the next step? What is his plan?”

Caleb continued explaining at Fjord’s question, gaze fixing once more on the floor in front of him.

“There is to be a banquet…”

__

_~~_

_“Once the ‘Mighty Nine’ have officially arrived in Rexxentrum, they will receive an invitation to the palace and the banquet that will signify the start of the celebration of peace…” Trent explained, tone moving to an almost growl of disgust. “Make sure they allow you to attend, boy.”_

_“Yes, master.” Caleb agreed evenly where he still knelt. That, at least, he did not think would prove difficult. He did not think they would even consider the fact his attendance would be at their discretion._

_“At the banquet, you are to speak to the heads of the kingdom, spread information of the mighty nine, their untrustworthiness. Their words of ill will towards the Empire and the King. You have been with them for weeks now, despite your standing your words will hold credit.”_

_Jester would probably want a fancy dress, she had been so excited at the prospect in Nicodranas. She had not had a true reason to purchase or wear one, but this occasion would certainly call for such. He wondered how Molly would look, dressed for royalty. How he-_

_Caleb screamed as fire raced through his veins, electricity sparking from Trent’s fingers digging into his shoulder. He choked down on the sound, tapering off into gurgled pain until Trent relented. He curled over himself, one hand braced against the floor as he breathed in short pants. Caleb forced himself upright as Trent turned away, once more folding his arms behind him obediently._

_Trent went back to his papers, back to his explanation without pause. Caleb did not need an explanation of the correction; Trent had noticed his lapse of attention and had corrected it. Caleb knew what rule he’d broken._

_“The heads will need to distrust them, have a seed of doubt. Make sure the Nine stay past dusk. They are not to leave early. They must be present when the fighting starts. Bring them to the king’s hall when you receive word. “_

_“Y-yes, master.” Caleb stammered out, muscles still trembling from the correction. He clenched his teeth at the slip, trying not to cringe as Trent approached him once more._

_Caleb was **grateful** for the simply backhand. His shoulder burned, agony branching down his torso, front and back, heart racing too quickly in his chest. His stomach twisted a moment later as Trent dropped four shards of green crystal on the floor in front of him._

_“Get up. Use one to call both Eodwulf and Astrid in here. Keep the rest for use when the time comes.” Trent ordered coldly._

_Caleb’s hand shook as he obediently took the crystals from the floor, rising and tucking three of them away. He unwound the linen bandages from his left arm, pushing down the thoughts and feelings as he did, distancing himself._

_His expression was blank as he tucked away the linens, taking the crystal in his hand and digging it into his forearm. Blood ran rivets down his arm, dripping from his fingers onto the floor. He barely felt that pain, already preparing himself for what followed._

_He took out the copper wire, twining it around a finger as he cast the spell. It should not have been able to reach two targets at once, the increased confines of the spell were a price paid in blood and pain as the arcane energy raced through his veins, tearing the skin around the crystal in his arm. The damage was not great, less than a more powerful spell would have caused, and it wasn’t too difficult for Caleb to speak past the pain._

_The crystal cracked and shattered as he finished the spell, a simple message of their required presence all he iterated too them. Trent smirked, as close to pleased as Caleb ever saw him, and nodded._

_“Dress the wound.”_

_Obediently, Caleb re-wrapped his arm with the bandage, dispassionately watching his blood stain the cloth. He folded his arms behind him as he finished, not looking at Eodwulf or Astrid as they came to stand beside him. Eodwulf placed himself beside Caleb, moving reluctantly as Astrid pulled him away and took his place, separating the two of them._

_“Astrid. You are to stay with Eodwulf. Make sure he brings the king to the hall at the appropriate time. You will message Caleb when it is done. He will bring the Nine. You will have ten minutes before the guard will arrive, make sure it looks convincing.”_

_“Yes, sir.” Astrid answered evenly, inclining her head respectfully._

_“Eodwulf…” Trent turned his attention to the tallest of his students, watching him carefully for a moment. “You understand your instructions?”_

_Eodwulf didn’t answer, though his gaze sharpened upon Trent. Astrid glanced over at him, shifting to brush against him. “Wulf? You remember the plan?”_

_The hard lines softened in Eodwulf as he focused on Astrid. “Yeah, of course. I got it.”_

_Astrid smiled at him, the expression fading into cold attentiveness as she turned back to Trent. “I’ll make sure he follows your instructions.”_

_Trent nodded, striding forward past them with a short wave of his arm. The three of them fell in step behind him, Caleb keeping to his left as Trent directed a question his way. “Boy, how long do they intend to keep their presence hidden?”_

_“They have barely begun their search, have discovered little.” Caleb reported carefully, keeping his voice carefully even as the make the short walk towards the stairs and exited the building. “None have made mention of revealing themselves. I would think they will do so once they have failed to find any evidence.”_

_Trent stopped at the bottom of the marble stairs, turning to face them. “Make sure they don’t. Destroy any connections to the Cerberus Assembly should any be found. Astrid, Eodwulf. You will accompany me to the palace. Caleb, return to your keepers.”_

_~~_

Caleb left out the discipline he’d received, the demonstration of the crystal, anything that pertained to harm being done to himself. He had already told Molly he was not injured; he was not so foolish to out the lie himself.

“Oh, Caleb. Of _course_ you would come with us.” Jester told him, her smile sad when he looked up at her. 

"He gave you crystals?" Fjord asked in confusion. 

Caleb retrieved the crystals from his coat at the question, holding them in an open palm, waiting for one of them to take them.

“How do they work?”

Caleb’s face blanched at Nott’s question, the wizard jerkily beginning to unwrap the linen bandages of his right arm.

Molly caught on first, eyes widening briefly before he reached over to grab Caleb’s wrist and stop his movements. Caleb froze, keeping his eyes down and not even breathing.

“We don’t need a demonstration. We don’t want one, that’s not what she meant.” Molly told him carefully. If it was anything like how Eodwulf had used the crystals (vague as his memory of that was) Molly did _not_ want to see it. The wizard’s arms were littered with scars already, probably from this exact thing, and Molly couldn’t stand seeing any more added to that number.

“Can you just tell us the theory?” Yasha asked quietly. “Like how you explained the difference between a pet and a familiar.”

“O-of course.” Caleb agreed, wincing and pausing before remembering Molly was here, had said there were no punishments. They didn’t care if he stumbled over a word. “Ah, simply put, they- they amplify magic. Extend the limitations of- of a spell.”

“See, simple.” Molly commented, tone tinged with worry as he slowly released Caleb's wrist. He stayed close at Caleb's side, trying his best to offer silent support and reassurance.

Caleb nodded, slowly putting away the crystal, keeping an eye on the others in case they wished to have them instead. No one made a move, or said anything, so he tucked them away, quickly re-wrapping his arm.

“Back to the point…” Fjord interrupted, ignoring the glare from Molly. “Caleb’s obviously supposed to set us up to take the blame for whatever goes down. Sounds like Eodwulf and Astrid are the ones making it go down. So what the hell is Trent supposed to be doing?”

“And is any of this proof enough to take to the King or guards?” Nott chimed in.

“Right now we’ve got no hard evidence, just Caleb’s word against theirs. And he’s a little outnumbered and I don’t think King Dwendal’s going to believe him. Not if what Dairon said is true and Trent’s got the King’s trust.” Beau stated, sighing unhappily.

“So, we’re on our own?” Nott questioned with a grimace.

“And we still don’t know what the end goal is.” Molly pointed out. “Surely killing the king isn’t it. That’s pretty short sighted.”

“If- if I may…?” Caleb questioned, hunching his shoulders.

“Of course, Caleb.” Molly answered gently, tail unconsciously curling around the wizard’s back.

“I… I cannot be certain, this is… is only, ah, what seems to be… I believe that, ah, that he may be planning to… to replace the king.” Caleb ventured nervously.

“Care to elaborate on that?” Fjord questioned.

Caleb drew in a shaky breath, continuing quickly. “The illusion spell changes ones visual appearance only. A person’s voice would, ah, would remain the same. It… would seem that, ah, that Astrid has developed some spell that would give the user the voice of another. She wore Trent’s visage, sounded like him when she spoke. Were it not for… for what she said, using my na- ah… If Eodwulf takes the appearance of the Drow, Astrid appears as Trent, and the goal is to kill the King… this would, ah, would leave him free to appear as Dwendal. Ikithon is patient, would keep up the charade until power could be transferred to- to himself directly.”

There was silence for a moment, each of them considering that as a possibility.

“That… that could be bad. And might actually work.” Beau broke the silence first.

“No one would question the King, and I’m sure Trent is smart enough not to make changes overnight.” Nott agreed.

“So how to we want to do this?” Beau asked, glancing around at the rest of them. “Trent’s got connections, as far as politics go. And enough support with the guard it sounds like he’s not concerned about them just accepting his story when it all goes down.”

“We still have over a week, we could still find some kind of hard proof to bring to King Dwendal.” Caduceus reminded them.

“Or the Cobalt Soul. High Curator Yudala has been on the side of peace, but has recently been kept from the King by Trent.” Beau said.

“According to Dairon…” Molly muttered uncharitably.

“Yeah, according to Dairon.” Beau huffed, rolling her eyes and continuing. “But when it comes to the Cobalt Soul, Dairon’s as straight as they come. We can trust that information. The High Curator would be the one able to take the proof to the King, deal with Trent through official channels.”

“I like the option of just fucking up his plans, and him, personally.” Molly growled lowly, toning down the intensity when he felt Caleb tense beside him.

“We could, but we run the risk of being arrested and executed as traitors.” Beau snarked.

“Oh, please. We come in and catch him in the act of trying to kill the King, and _we_ would be the one’s arrested?” Molly retorted.

“Yeah, _if_ we timed it right. And Trent’s going to have two other mages with him! Do you know how easy it would be for them to kill the king before we could stop them? No matter what way that goes down, whether we take any of them out or not, we’ll still be blamed!” Beau snapped back.

Fjord groaned, rubbing his forehead as he felt a headache brewing. Arguing… Again. “ **LIKE** Caduceus said… we have more than a week to figure this out.”

“Why don’t we all get some rest, discuss what our next move will be in the morning?” Caduceus suggested, watching Fjord with a worried expression. He turned his attention to Caleb, putting the concern aside for the moment. “How long does this place last?”

“For…. for twenty-four hours. All of us may enter and leave as we wish, I can adjust any rooms to your wishes if- if you would like. If you have need of anything, there are servants that are part of the arcane mansion, anything created by the spell cannot be removed from the confines.” Caleb explained the general limitations of the spell, though some of it covered what he had told them once.

“Thank you, Caleb.” Caduceus said with a nod, turning to address the others. “Why don’t we all have a good night’s rest, come back to this tomorrow.”

All of them agreed, they’d each had a long day wandering the city, and one by one they filter out of the sitting room into the ornate hallways.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, all right. Two chapters today. Here you go.

Fjord followed Caleb as they all went their separate ways to find a room to sleep in. The mansion was here and a safe place to sleep, it made no sense _not_ to take advantage of that. The warlock caught up to Caleb once the others were out of sight and hearing, moving to block the wizard’s path.

Caleb stopped, dropping his gaze and folding his arms behind him. “Yes, Fjord?”

“You seemed to have left out a few details in your story, which I guess I should thank you for.” Fjord began, shaking his head with an impatient sigh as the words caused Caleb to tense and duck his head. “What did he do. Really. You were hurt, so what happened?”

Fjord wasn’t sure why it was so important to know, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do to change it. It had been Caleb’s idea to go talk to Trent, but Fjord had let him do it. Had even encouraged it. It felt important to know the consequences of that.

“It- it is n-not-.”

“Caleb.” Fjord spoke his name firmly, ignoring the irrational rush when Caleb flinched and hurried to correct himself.

“H-here, I… I will… will show you…” Caleb answered softly, head tilting towards the door to his room nearby.

Fjord nodded, following Caleb into the room and frowning at the sparse space. It greatly resembled the simple rooms of the Cobalt Soul, strangely enough. When he looked back at Caleb, intent on asking, his question was lost as Caleb pulled off first his coat, then the soft white shirt underneath.

He was scrawny, thinner than was healthy, scars littered across his form and Fjord expected more lay beneath the linen wraps still around his arms. There was blood on the wraps of his left arm, however more immediately obvious were the fresh pink lines running from his shoulder down his chest, some of which were still red and angry looking.

“Fuck… Caleb, what…what did he…”

“It… ah, it was the same, ah, same spell that I had…” Caleb flushed, stepping back as he let the arcane energy flow and sparks danced between his fingers. He shook it away quickly, stepping back to his original position and standing with his arms behind him once more.

He didn’t move as Fjord drew closer, shoulders trembling slightly as the warlock inspected him. He kept his head down, muscles tight as he fought to stay still as Fjord circled around behind him.

Fjord felt a sick twisted mix of uneasy and pleased. He understood what Caleb meant, whatever spell that had left these marks was the same thing Caleb had done to him during their little scuffle. It’d hurt, but it wasn’t life threatening. With this much left still visible and inflamed Trent must have cast it more than once. But Caleb had gone, gotten the information they needed, and returned in a demonstration of loyalty that was disgustingly gratifying. 

Fjord tried to hold onto the feeling of unease, to _not_ be pleased, because the aftermath of Caleb’s experience with Trent looked… painful. Even while Caleb stood there like he felt nothing, Fjord knew it still had to hurt. He didn't _like_ it, didn't want Caleb to be injured or in pain. But it was hard to ignore the stroke of ego that Caleb was willing to do that. **_Good_**. Fjord shook his head, frowning and silently willing his patron's voice away. 

Caleb spoke as the silence stretched, voice trembling. “Mast- Ah, Trent stated that I must have pleased your group to some extent, as he expected you to have… have left m-more of a mark. I informed h-him that t-there are two- two clerics. I spoke out of turn, should not have presumed to correct his knowledge, and was punished.”

“He asked if I had succeeded in gaining your trust. I t-told him I thought I had w-with most of you. Most was n-not the mission. F-failure is not- is not tolerated and p-punishment followed. My attention wandered w-while he gave instruction… I was c-corrected… I-“

“Enough, Caleb, stop.” Fjord interrupted him, almost choking as guilt washed against him. He was afraid to let Caleb list each thing Trent had hurt him for. Gods, was that what had taken so long? Frequent breaks to _torture_ Caleb? And he had just… let Caleb go into that. He’d _known_ how afraid the mage was of Trent, but he hadn’t cared. Just… just wanted answers, had followed that rush, tired of doing nothing.

He hadn’t wanted this.

Fjord circled back around Caleb, leaning to pick up the discard shirt and offering it carefully to Caleb. “What happened there?” Fjord asked, nodding to the blood on the linen wraps on the mage’s arms.

Caleb looked up at him slowly, hand shaking as he accepted the shirt and held it loosely in his hands. “He required a demonstration of the crystals.”

“Really?” Fjord snorted. “What, did he think you’d forget in the few weeks away?”

Caleb dropped his gaze, flushing slightly. “N-no, I… It was- was likely a test. Of my obedience. Proof of- of my loyalty to his instructions.”

“So he trusts you then?”

Caleb was careful to keep his voice even as he answered, though fearful expectation filled him. He’d been punished by Trent for the answer to that question regarding the Nine, for being unable to truthfully answer with an affirmative, would Fjord do the same?

“As… much as he trusts anyone.”

Fjord frowned, feeling a slight bit of discomfort after that question. Trust. Loyalty. Both things Trent had wanted Caleb to prove to them. Now Caleb was having to prove those thing to Trent in order to follow their orders. No... no, not orders. They didn’t give orders. Not… not really.

It was _different_. Trent probably liked the image of Caleb afraid and obedient, the rush of power that instant unwavering obedience gave. Fjord didn’t. It… it was just the echo of Uk’otoa’s pleasure when he did as bid, when he gave an order and watched it immediately be carried out with no arguing, no question. Fjord shook his head, running a hand down his face.

No. No, he wasn’t like that. He was different. He didn’t want to hurt Caleb, didn’t take pleasure in his pain. It was… it was just easier telling him what to do. Offering options didn’t work anyway. It wasn’t like Fjord would hurt him if he said no…

“I’ll get Caduceus if you want, or Jester.” Fjord offered.

Caleb dropped his gaze again, tone subdued. “If you wish.”

Case and point, Fjord thought with another sigh. Make him an offer and he just… didn’t give a straight answer.

“Get dressed and follow me.” Fjord told him, pausing long enough for Caleb to obey before leading the way out. After asking one of the mansion servants to lead the way, Fjord led Caleb to the room Caduceus had taken for the evening.

The Firbolg was the least likely to make a big deal out of treating the injuries. He wouldn’t approve, Fjord didn’t exactly approve, but he preferred disapproving looks to Jester’s scolding and the possibility her shouting might bring the attention of the rest of the group. He didn’t have the patience for another fight.

Caleb was _fine_ , if a little injured. It had worked out, they would make a counter plan against Trent’s plots. Fjord had been right letting Caleb do that and he was in no mood to argue the point. Caduceus would heal Caleb, things would be back to normal. Fjord glanced sidelong at the wizard, Caleb keeping in step slightly behind him. He had mixed feelings about the sight, but Caleb didn’t look afraid, so it was fine… right?

Fjord knocked on Caduceus’ door, keeping an eye on Caleb as they waited the brief moment before Caduceus answered.

“Fjord, Caleb. What can I do for you?” Caduceus asked, gaze moving between the two of them.

“Mind if we come in for a second, Caleb could use your… healing abilities.” Fjord explained simply.

“Of course.” Caduceus agreed, stepping back and waving an inviting arm. “Caleb, you should have said so earlier.”

“Yes, Caduceus. I am sorry.” Caleb apologized, following Fjord into the room.

Caduceus shook his head. “No need to apologize. How can I help?”

Fjord turned to face Caleb, crossing his arms awkwardly as he gave the wizard an expectant look. “Caleb.”

Caduceus tilted his head slightly, gaze moving between the two of them for a moment in contemplation, before fixating on Caleb as the wizard drew his shirt off over his head. He laid it carefully on the closest surface before beginning to unwrap the linen bandages around his arms, breath coming just a little to fast to be normal.

When Caduceus glanced back over at Fjord, the warlock simply stood watching Caleb with an expression that worried the cleric. Something was going on; with Fjord or between Fjord and Caleb, Caduceus wasn’t sure which.

“Fjord, why don’t you go get some rest. I’ll help out Caleb and make sure he’s all settle for the night when we’re done.” Caduceus suggested, determining now was probably not the best time to confront his suspicions. They would be back to sharing rooms at the local inn soon enough, he’d talk to Fjord alone then.

Fjord hesitated, a dark look crossing his face for a moment before he shook it away. “Yeah, yeah. That’s… yeah.”

Caleb kept his eyes down, though his attention followed Fjord as the warlock left. When the door closed behind him, Caleb glanced up at Caduceus, apologizing nervously. “I… am sorry. I should- should have told you.”

“I understand. Everyone was already pretty upset.” Caduceus told him gently.

Caleb nodded, remaining silent. Understanding was not forgiveness, nor did it negate punishment. Caduceus had said before that he was supposed to tell him when he was injured. He had failed to do so. Caleb was… less certain of Molly’s promise of lack of correction and punishments given the most recent circumstances.

Things… things had changed. Reevaluation of the individuals of the group, and his place among them, was obviously required. Molly was safe; as were Jester, Nott, and Beauregard. At least he was fairly certain Beauregard would not harm him. He had given her cause more than once and she had only hit him because he threatened Molly. Fjord required obedience and he was pleased. Yasha... was probably safe, content so long as he did not make trouble for the others. Caduceus… he did not know. ‘Once we’re done’ could mean so many things…

Caleb looked away as Caduceus stepped closer to him, the cleric’s hands glowing a soft green. He let out a slow unsteady breath, forcing himself to remain still and wait, though Caduceus made no further move to touch him.

“May I?”

Caleb met the cleric’s gaze at the question, confused. “W-what?”

“Do you mind if I heal you? The healing spell works through touch, but I promise it won’t hurt.” Caduceus explained easily, still not reaching for him.

“I…” Caleb hesitated, looking away again. He’d refused Jester’s healing once with no consequences, but things had… changed. Hadn’t they? With the group so angry. With Fjord taking on the responsibility of directing Caleb. Caduceus was always gentle, seemed so hard to anger. If he were to ask a question of any of them, Caduceus seemed to be the best to test the waters with. “W-what… what happens if I say no?”

Caduceus smiled sadly, dropping his hand and stepping away. “Nothing happens.”

Caleb let out a slow breath, after a long moment shifting forward slightly. “If- if you, ah, if you do not mind, it… it is- ah, I… I would- ah, y-yes...”

Caduceus smiled gently, approaching Caleb once more as his hands glowed a soft green. He ran his hand carefully over the burn on Caleb’s shoulder, the scent of earth and fresh grass reaching the wizard as the cooling sensation soothed the irritated skin. Flakes of moss covered the worst of the burns, flaking away to reveal healthy pink skin.

“Things okay, with you and Fjord?” Caduceus asked casually, brushing off some of the remaining moss and inspecting the healed injuries.

“I… I think, ja. Is- did he, ah, is he-.” Caleb fumbled with the answer, unable to make himself ask a question with Caduceus so close and touching him. He wasn’t familiar with all cleric magic, but he did know that they could cause pain as well as heal.

Caduceus stepped away as the last of the angry red lines faded into smooth healed skin. He turned away from Caleb moving across the room to the little stovetop with tea. He’d thought it touching that Caleb had added this to the mansion. Caduceus though he must have, because it wasn’t a normal item to have within a room, and Caleb had mention he could change the rooms.

“He’s not angry with you about that fight a few days ago. If that’s what you’re asking.” Caduceus commented, glancing briefly at Caleb. He was glad to see the wizard donning his shirt again, looking far less uneasy and afraid.

“T-thank you.”

Caduceus nodded, looking back at the tea as he made himself a cup.

“Do… do you wish me to, ah, to leave?”

Caduceus looked over at Caleb in surprise, the wizard watching him warily and had shifted back toward the door slightly. “If you want. I won’t stop you. You’re welcome to stay, have some tea.”

Caduceus set the cup down on the side table, letting Caleb have all the time he wanted to consider the choice, and made a second cup for himself. He settled on one of the chairs in the room, sipping the tea and mediating, looking up some time later to see Caleb take the other cup.

He was glad that Caleb wanted to stay, but was less pleased to watch Caleb move to the foot of the bed, sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest. Clutching the cup of tea to himself, Caleb curled up into the corner where the wooden bedframe met the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear Fjord's not evil...
> 
> *shifty eyes*
> 
> I'm not sure if he's really concerned about Caleb getting healed for the sake of Caleb, or if it's more of a 'take care of your things' kinda vibe.  
> Dark path he be going down. Let's see how far it goes, shall we?


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have mixed feeling about this chapter's quality. And where it ended....
> 
> *le sigh* Posts anyway.

Caduceus woke early to a light knock on the door.

He opened his eyes, breathing in the peace for a moment before sitting up. He looked at Caleb as he stood, the wizard still tucked in the corner, unmoving and appearing mostly peaceful. Caduceus had draped a blanket over him before retiring, the mage nearly waking even at that small proximity to his person, so Caduceus had left him to rest where he sat.

Besides, it seemed Caleb was uncomfortable with most of them coming too close to him, much less touching him. So, Caduceus had left him alone, even if it was strange to let a guest sleep on the floor. Caduceus moved quietly over to the door, opening it to find Molly fidgeting on the other side. “Molly, good morning.”

Molly gave him his usual flashy grin, though there was a falseness to it; an uneasy worry hidden beneath. He brushed past Caduceus into the room, pacing a bit as he started talking.

“Hey, Cad, I wanted to talk to you abou-“ Molly stopped short, blinking in surprise seeing Caleb. He lowered his voice to not quite a whisper, frowning at the sight before looking over at Caduceus. “Oh… I didn’t know you had company. Why is he on the floor?”

“He fell asleep there.” Caduceus explained, shuffling around the room as he prepared some tea and began setting up his tokens to the wild mother for his morning meditation.

Molly was quiet for a moment, then rolled his eyes as it became obvious more details were not forthcoming. “That’s the worst explanation ever.”

“You’re welcome to try and move him. He might not even mind. He likes you.” Caduceus offered easily, lips turning into a light smile as he glanced over at Molly.

“He- He barely puts up with any of us.” Molly protested, flushing deeply as he remembered a fairly recent kiss, the very _NOT_ scared or upset look on a certain wizard’s face afterward, and the dozens of times he’d curled close to the mage for one reason or another. Caleb had seemed content enough, certainly not afraid, but that didn't mean he _liked_ him. Whatever Molly might feel about it, he really doubted Caleb would feel the same. The mage was still scared of Molly half the time, and his little temper tantrum yesterday hadn’t helped.

Not to mention that one time he’d fucking _slapped_ Caleb. The memory twisted in him every time Caleb looked at him with fear. He just hoped Caleb knew that Molly would _never_ hurt him intentionally, Molly tried to prove it to him at every chance.

Molly looked over at Caleb again, grimacing at the awkward angle of his neck, the way he was curled up so tightly. That couldn’t be comfortable. Maybe he should try and move him, but he didn’t want to wake Caleb. He could probably use the rest after yesterday…

“What did you want to ask me about?” Caduceus reminded him.

Molly narrowed his eyes at Caduceus, the too innocent smile and slightly coy tone. He huffed in annoyance, settling himself on side of the bed nearest Caleb and tried to pretend like his entire everything hadn’t gotten completely sidetracked just by _seeing_ the wizard.

“I was going to ask if you knew what the hell is up with Fjord. Bastards been avoiding me all morning…” Molly stated, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, gaze drifting across Caleb every once in a while. “He normally acts like he’s got a stick up his ass, but is it just me or is he getting worse? He usually gets mad as US for going off plan, then he changes it all up blowing our cover letting Caleb go talk to Ikython… It’s… really just… Oh, for-“

The wizard was killing him. Caleb was going to wake up feeling like someone had broken his neck if he sat there like that, and it was **bothering** Molly. He stood up, moving around the bed to kneel next to the mage. He shot a glare at Caduceus, hearing an almost snort of laughter, before trying to carefully straighten Caleb into a position that would be a lot less painful.

Caleb muttered something un-intelligible, though Molly guessed it was probably Zemnian, shifting in his sleep and throwing an arm around the Tiefling. It was an unexpected turn, not entirely unwelcome, but it did make moving him without waking him nearly impossible.

Molly looked over at Caduceus, the cleric giving him an amused grin and shrugged unhelpfully.

Molly rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t like he had anything to complain about. Instead, he made himself comfortable, tucking the blanket back around Caleb from where it had slipped when the wizard moved. Caleb curled up against him with another muttered Zemnian word, Molly’s hand finding its way to card through the red hair. This mostly counted as a success. At least Caleb looked more comfortable.

“See. I told you he likes you.” Caduceus chuckled as he began his meditation with the Wildmother.

~~

Caleb woke warm and comfortable, a blanket over his form while he leaned against softness. For a moment he was confused; this was not the same cold discomfort and unease he had fallen asleep to…where was he? The calm feeling soon froze as ice in his chest as he realized there were arms around him, the warmth he curled against a steady rise and fall of breath.

There were hands on him, claws threading slowly, rhythmically, through his hair, the barest pressure on his scalp. It was gently, almost pleasant, but Caleb’s heart skipped and he held carefully still. Every brush against his temple sent a thrill of fear through him, icy terror piercing through him at every movement. He focused on breathing evenly, keeping his eyes closed.

Caleb shuddered, too slow in trying to stamp down the involuntary reaction. The hand paused and Caleb’s breath hitched, waiting for the fury, the pain, to follow.

“Sorry. Sorry, you just…”

 _Molly_. Caleb was surprised the relief he felt at the realization, opening his eyes to look up into Molly’s worried expression, tension bleeding from his muscles.

“I came to talk to Caduceus. I didn’t expect to find you here. And you looked like you were about to break your neck, I was only trying to help, I wouldn’t- I’m sorry, you just sort of grabbed me and I didn’t want to wake you…” Molly explained as he carefully extracted himself from around Caleb.

Caleb almost reached out to Molly as the Tiefling moved away, but he resisted the urge. He’d already done that once, unknowing that it had been, he should not push Mollymauk’s patience, as much as he wished... Instead, he wrapped his arms around his torso, dropping his gaze to his lap. "It... it is alright."

Caduceus held back a chuckle. Molly was a deep shade of violet, embarrassment coloring his features as he tried to act natural as he moved away from Caleb and poked idly around the room. A flush was present on Caleb’s cheeks as well, though somehow he hid it better. Caduceus made his way closer to Caleb, stopping a good distance away and offering a hand to help him up. “How are you feeling?”

“I…am well, ah, I am sorry, I did not mean to… I should not h-have, ah, have imposed…” Caleb stammered.

“I don’t mind the company, but I wish you hadn’t had to sleep on the floor.” Caduceus said gently.

“Caduceus is such a proper host, I’m surprised he didn’t offer you the bed and all.” Molly chuckled, tossing a grin at the Firbolg.

“It can’t have been good for you.” Caduceus continued as if Molly hadn’t spoken. “If you need another healing spell, I’d be happy to help.”

“Another healing spell? What happened to need the first?” Molly asked, the question coming out sharper than he’d meant as the calm laziness of the morning vanished. He turned around to take a step toward the two of them, coming to an abrupt stop as Caleb flinched back. The mage was on his feet now, blanket still around his shoulders, as he cringed back against the wall.

“It- it is n-nothing.. I am fine…” Caleb tried, unconvincingly, to reassure Molly.

“That fucker _did_ do something, didn’t he?” Molly hissed, tail lashing furiously. It wasn't hard to connect the dots. No one here would have hurt him and the only dangerous place he'd been recently was the Academy.

“Bitte, M-Molly, I… I am… Caduceus has healed what Fjord’s potion did not, I am-“ Caleb’s voice died in his throat as Molly let out a growl that sounded downright _feral_.

“Fjord. _Knew_?” Molly snarled, eyes flickering toward the door furiously. “He KNEW and let you sit there hurt and said _nothing_?”

“M-Mollymauk, please…”

“Caleb.” Caduceus tried to draw the mage’s attention, only succeeding when he repeated his name and reached out to touch his shoulder. “Caleb, I thought Fjord brought you here when you told him about it. I'm sure he didn't mean to hide your injuries earlier?”

Caleb flinched, keeping carefully still under Caduceus’ touch as he shook his head. “N-no... t-that wasn't-. No, I… I did not want- I am sorry, I… I s-should not...” Caleb trailed off, breathing so quickly he was near hyperventilating as his attention was drawn back to Mollymauk once more.

He was furious. Of course, he was furious. Caleb knew better, good intentions or not, was a fool to think he’d be able to keep up the deception. Fjord had known about the injuries, had brought him to Caduceus; Molly was bound to find out about it eventually.

“Caleb it- Molly, wait!” Caduceus turned from Caleb, to call out to Molly, the Tiefling stopping halfway out the door.

“No. No I will not wait.” Molly said coolly, tone in stark contrast with the fury still evident on his features. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

Caleb watched Molly turn and leave, stomach twisting in desperation. He remembered the trip from Nicodranas to Zadash, the nights alone while the others crowded around each other, the careful distance they kept from him. Molly promised that they wouldn’t hurt him, and they hadn’t, but that form of discipline hurt so much more than physical pain.

He couldn’t do that again. Please…

Caleb didn’t want to be alone. To be ignored and forgotten. Not with… not with them, after he knew what gentle contact felt like. How long would it last this time? How long would it take him to stumble upon the answer that brought him value enough to be acknowledged once more. For him to prove himself enough that Molly would sit close beside him, that Jester would throw her arms around him at odd times, that Nott would pat his hand as she passed.

“M-Molly… Molly, wait, please…” Caleb called after him, voice little more than a whisper in face of the despair threatening to consume him. He left the room as well, following the Tiefling and paying little attention to Caduceus’ concerned voice beside him.

Molly did not want to punish him, that was fine. Caleb would do it himself if only to please Molly. The Tiefling would not have to lift a finger, need not stain his hands with Caleb’s blood. He wasn’t worth that, he understood. Caleb would administer the correction upon himself, the price would be paid and Molly would not be angry anymore. It… it would be okay.

Caleb followed Molly’s trail toward the dining area of the mansion, Caduceus at his side. They heard shouting as they approached, the scattering of silverware and benches. When they entered through the open archway into the dining hall, they were met with the sight of Molly wrestling with Fjord, the warlock’s back shoved against a wall. Yasha and Nott stood shocked watching the two, both taken off guard by the sudden attack.

Molly was holding his own, managing to keep the larger man pinned as he snarled obscenities and insults at Fjord, nails digging into the collar of his shirt down to the skin beneath. “You motherfucking idiot! Leave him alone with that bastard and you don’t even fucking CARE he’s injured, you-“

Fjord muscled his way out of Molly’s grip, shoving a shoulder into the Teifling’s chest and knocking him back. Molly swing out at him wildly, Fjord easily ducking the blow. Molly was enraged, near feral with anger, and Fjord took advantage of that blind fury. He shoved Molly’s shoulder as the Tiefling swung at him, throwing Mollymauk off balance as he turned full circle to keep Fjord in front of him.

Fjord stepped forward, forcing Molly to back away, ruthlessly pressing forward and punching Molly across the jaw. “We were getting NOWHERE! He _wanted_ to go! I gave him a healing potion, he didn’t complain about anything after that! What else could I have done?!”

Molly half fell, fumbling to stay on his feet as he glared at Fjord, blood dripping from his lip. He snarled insults and curses in Infernal, lunging forward at Fjord when the flames licked up his torso distracting him. His claws glanced off Fjord’s armor, Molly cursing in frustration.

Fjord grabbed his wrist, yelping as Molly threw his head back. Blood ran down Fjord’s nose, his lip split, and he released Molly stepping back and speaking a guttural work, the air around him dropping in temperature as a layer of spectral frost covered his front.

Molly spun and lashed out again, this time his fist landing along Fjord’s face, the warlock jerking to the side at the impact. Ice shattered out at Molly when Fjord was struck. It sliced across the blood hunters skin, freezing and crystalizing into icy cold pain. Molly stepped back at the force, Fjord dogging his steps with eyes near black as he retaliated.

Fjord’s first blow set Molly off balance, staggering to stay upright. Fjord gave him no time to recover, pressing forward and striking him once more across the face. Molly stumbled back a few feet, tripping over an upturned chair and sprawling on his back. Fjord squared his shoulders, stalking forward steadily.

Before he could think, could second guess his actions, Caleb lurched forward. He moved to put himself between Molly and Fjord, blocking the warlock’s path. He dropped his gaze, folding his arms behind him as he stood there submissive and compliant. He wasn’t supposed to fight back, probably wasn’t supposed to interrupt whatever… this… was, but Caleb couldn’t let Molly be hurt further because of him. HE had lied, HE should face the punishment.

Fjord glowered at him, and Caleb knew he had definitely just undone all the approval he’d managed to gain from the warlock so far, but Fjord stopped his approach. His attention wasn’t on Molly anymore, so Caleb thought it well worth whatever punishment might be in store for him, whether it be administered now or later.

“Fjord! Stop this!” Yasha interrupted firmly, moving forward to stand near Caleb, placing herself between Molly and Fjord as well. “Molly-“

“It…it is my fault.” Caleb interrupted softly, fear evident as his shoulders tensed under Yasha’s gaze. He kept his gaze lowered, still facing Fjord though he turned his head slightly in Yasha's direction as he spoke. From the corner of his eye he saw Caduceus helping Molly to stand, keeping one hand on the Tiefling’s shoulder.

“Ohmygosh! You guyyyys!!” Jester screeched in shock, jaw dropping as she entered the room and surveyed the chaos.

“What the fuck?” Beau complained, pushing quickly past Jester to place herself between Fjord and Caleb. She was not at all comfortable with the dark look Fjord was leveling at mage. This was almost an exact replica of the standoff three days ago, except Molly was still here and looking pissed and nobody was holding a blade this time. But for whatever reason, it looked like Fjord was ready do some serious damage to whoever was in his way, namely Caleb.

“What is your prob-“

Molly stepped forward, glowering at Fjord as he interrupted Beau’s question. “My problem is this asshole who couldn’t give two-“

“He wanted to go! How was I to know he-“

“Anyone with half brain would have realized!”

“You did such a great job seeing it yesterday, why didn’t _YOU_ say something!?”

Beau’s gaze flickered between them as they argued, muscles tensing for a fight as they each stepped towards each other again. Instinctively, Beau threw an arm out across Caleb, trying to push him back away from the two of them. Surprisingly, he resisted, attempted to stay between Fjord and Molly.

“You guys, stop it! What are you even fighting about?” Jester asked, the question ignored by both of them.

“ **I** wasn’t the idiot that let him go in the first place!” Molly snapped.

“He’s an _archmage_ , not a fragile child! Will you get OVER it!” Fjord snarled back. “He’s here, alive and well, and he got the job DONE. He could have messaged me if things were going wrong. He didn’t. Or are you implying he’s so useless he doesn’t know how to handle himself?”

“Hey!” “Fjord!!”

Beau and Jester objected in unison, finally drawing the warlock’s attention away from Mollymauk. He threw up his hands in frustration, turning and striding out of the dining area.


	61. Chapter 61

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Beau asked, looking away from the doorway Fjord had stormed out of to look across the rest of them.

“I- it is my-“ Caleb began shakily. _Useless_. He’d gone from disapproval to being **useless**. Fjord had made it clear the previous day that Caleb should have messaged him, for all it had been done with the offer of healing. His displeasure had been conveyed and with this newest failure Caleb could see easily where he stood with the warlock.

Useless.

_Useless failure, get out of my sight._

Fjord asked for so little, just obedience. Yet he had defied him. It wasn’t his place to attempt to influence his master’s decision and actions, whether those actions cause harm to one he cared for. His place was to obey. It had always been…

_~~We don’t own you~~_. _Useless failure_.

“It- it is my f-fault, I am sor-“

“ **Caleb** …” Molly interrupted, feeling like a complete ass a moment later as Caleb’s flinched and fell silent. He cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face before stalking out of the room as well.

“Oh man, oh man…” Jester worried, shifting her weight and inching toward the door.

“I’ll go talk to Fjord.” Caduceus stated, moving to place a calming hand on Jester’s shoulder. “Why don’t you see if you can calm Molly down. We can all discuss plans outside of the mansion in a little while.”

Jester took a deep breath, expression turning determined. “Right. O-kay.”

Jester headed out of the room following after Molly. After a moment to look around at the rest of them, getting a little head nod from Beau, Caduceus went off to find Fjord.

“Molly said you were hurt?” Yasha questioned worriedly, head tilting as she regarded Caleb. “Are you okay?”

“I.. I am f-fine.” Caleb told her, staring numbly at the floor.

_Useless._

And now Molly had left. How long before the others followed? How long would they reject Caleb this time? There had to be… had to be _something_ he could do. Some way to make amends. He could not bear days alone, of knowing those burning red eyes watched him, but would never draw closer, the oppressive weight of their collective disapproval.

Jester had left as well, along with Caduceus. Fjord’s absence would have been a relief if Caleb could find it within himself to _feel_. A distant part of him knew there would be a reckoning for his disobedience at some point, however.

He needed to fix this. Somehow.

“Seriously though, what the hell was that about?” Beau asked, flipping one of the benches upright again. She paused before sitting, brow furrowing at Caleb who simply stood there. Cautiously, Beau took a step closer to him, carefully placing a hand on his arm and speaking gently. “Caleb?”

He didn’t react. Didn’t flinch, didn’t move, didn’t even look at her. Beau bit back a curse, dropping her hand from his arm. She had no idea how to help right now. Nott had scurried over to the servants, ordering more food for them since the current selection lay scattered across the floor, and Yasha was looking at her for direction.

Fuck.

“Caleb, you… you wanna have a seat? Uh…” She flailed, unsure and a bit queasy at how instantly he obeyed even a suggestion. She cast about trying to thing of something, anything, that would help. It was off putting to see Caleb sitting ramrod straight, staring dully at the table infront of him. Last time he’d been so distant and compliant was when Dairon had…

She scanned over him quickly, both relieved and confused when she found no new injuries, nothing that indicated he might been hit at all. That still left her at a loss on what to do. Last time, Molly had been the one to help.

“Hey, what about Frumpkin? I haven’t seen the furball in a while?”

“Yes.” Yasha agreed, eager for anything that might help the current situation. “I would like to see him again too.”

Caleb hesitated, head tilting slightly as he slowly looked each of them over, even Nott when she returned to them and sat beside the wizard.

“We won’t hurt him, Caleb.” Yasha said gently as his gaze drifted cautiously over her a second time.

Caleb dropped his gaze, giving murmured apology before clicking his fingers, Frumpkin appearing beside Yasha.

“Oh.” Yasha let out a soft noise of surprise, having expected Frumpkin to appear in front of Caleb, or in his lap. Not at her feet. She leaned down to pick him up, holding him carefully as she approached Caleb and set the fey cat in his arms before stepping back to give him room and find herself a seat once more.

Nott took up the small space left on the bench Caleb occupied, giving Frumpkin a friendly pat before shoving all the upturned, broken, and otherwise unusable dishes out of the way so the ethereal servants could replace them.

“Don’t worry Caleb. Molly and Fjord will work things out, we’ve all clashed at one point or another, but that’s what families do.” Nott advised the mage kindly.

Caleb nodded automatically, barely registering the words.

He didn’t deserve the kindness in her voice. He paid no attention to the halting and awkward conversation of Yasha explaining what happened to Beauregard, Nott trying to change the discussion to something lighter once the monk was caught up. He didn’t touch the food or drink set before him. He didn’t deserve it and maybe denying himself would prove how sorry he was, would win back the approval he’d shattered so carelessly with his actions.

~~

Jester found Molly in one of the bedrooms of the mansion, though when she walked in it was less of a room and more of a hot mess.

What once had been a fairly ornate room, complete with a canopy bed, two leather covered chairs, a writing desk, a bedside table, and a fancy candle stand, was now a mess of broken wood and torn cloth. There were feathers coating the floor, splintered bits of wood and glass, the candle stand somehow bent at an odd angle where it lay across the floor.

“Wow.” Jester intoned, standing in the doorway and just surveying the damage.

Molly huffed a long sigh, running a hand through his hair to tame the mess it had become. He was breathing a little heavily, though with another sigh he slowed it to a normal rate. “Jester, darling. How can I help you?” He asked, smile full of false cheer as he tugged his ornate coat on straight, reaching up to untangle the bits of jewelry that adorned his horns.

“Fjord must have done something pre-tty bad for you to wreck this room so much.” Jester commented, picking her way across the rubble to join Molly in the middle of the room. She reached up to pluck a stray feather from his hair, flicking it away casually. “Sooooo, what is wrong? Why were you and Fjord fighting?”

“Okay, I admit, I might have lost my temper.” Molly sighed, shoulders slumping as he gave up all pretense of being anything close to ‘fine’. “It’s… it’s everything. It’s like we take a step forward and two steps back. I thought things were getting better on the way to Zadash, but turned out he thought we wanted to give him back. Okay, we explained that and he was okay, but then fucking _Dairon_. And coming here and the whole banishment spell and his memories, and then Fjord goes off and sends him to Trent, and I _promised_ him… Jester… I told him, I promised him, that wouldn’t happen but it _did_.”

“Oh, Molly. It’s not your fault.” Jester tried wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

“I don’t even know what the bastard did to him, but it was bad enough he needed Caduceus to heal him even after taking a healing potion.” Molly muttered, leaning into her. “He was probably in pain that whole time he was telling us what Trent is planning.”

“He’s okay now thought.” Jester said comfortingly. “And we’ll make sure he knows that next time if he’s hurt he can tell us right away and no one will be mad, and he can have all the healing spells he wants.”

“I don’t want there to _be_ a next time, Jester.” Molly sighed, pulling away from her.

“And there won’t be, don’t worry, Trent is def-i-nitely never touching Caleb again, okay, I’ll help you out right there, anytime man. But like, for any other thing, you know, we can just let him know it’s okay to ask and stuff.” Jester explained. She thought for a moment, a comfortable silence between them. “Okay, so what if, because I think we all need a break really, maybe we take the day off, go shopping or just hang out…”

“Jester, we’re trying to stop an assassination plot against the King, I don’t know if we have time to take a day off.” Molly sighed, tone suggesting he would like that very much whether they had time or not.

“Well, yeah, maybe…” Jester hedged, kicking some of the feathers around in a pointless attempt to move them into a single pile. She wasn’t entirely sure if there was a point to cleaning up and she hoped the mansion would fix itself later. “But Caleb told Trent that we just got here and were going to be investigating, undercover and all, and we’ve already been investigating for three whole days, so we can take a break, and look some more tomorrow and then maybe then we’ll be like ‘oh heyyyy, we arrived in Rexxentrum’ and then we’ll get that invitation and it’ll all be good, yeah?”

Molly let out a dry laugh, smiling despite himself. He wandered over to lean against a wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. “Thanks Jes.”

“Oh, Molly. He’ll be okay, I know he will.” Jester told him, making her way over to sit next to Molly.

Molly looked over at her, giving her a tight smile. “You don’t have to stay here with me, honestly I’m not the best company right now.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to leave you all _alone_.” Jester huffed, bumping her shoulder against him. “You’ll just sit here all sulky and making yourself feel bad.”

Molly chuckled, leaning his head against hers and closing his eyes. “I think I’d deserve it, scaring Caleb all over again. I really didn’t mean to snap at him, but it wasn’t his fault and I just.. couldn’t deal with him taking the blame.”

“Well, going shopping is a perfect time to make it up to him!” Jester said cheerfully. “We’ll need to get some fancy clothes for the feast anyway, sooooo...”

Molly’s lip twitched in the beginnings of a smile, letting Jester pull him into a more pleasant discussion.

~~

Caduceus found Fjord outside of the mansion, the warlock making use of the punching backs that stood along the walls of the Cobalt Soul dorm room. He wasn’t using them as intended; instead of fists he had his falchion in hand, slashing line after line until the thing was just tattered cloth with a pile of sand underneath before moving onto the next.

Caduceus’ brow furrowed in concern as he watched, leaning gently on his staff.

“Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it.” Fjord grunted, stepping back from the second destroyed bag. He dismissed the falchion, seawater spattering onto the floor as he did so. “I didn’t start that, Molly did. Go preach to him.”

“….”

“Look, Caduceus.” Fjord began, turning to face the cleric. “I wasn’t trying to hide the fact Caleb was injured. If I had been, I’d have told him to drink another healing potion and have been done with it. But mentioning that he got hurt would have just caused an argument. Hell, you saw what Molly just did!”

“…”

Fjord tensed, fighting to keep from shouting. “I didn't know it was that bad. And we’d still be in there arguing about whether it was a good idea or not if I’d have brought it up before letting him go, and Molly’s so stuck on treating him like he’s some fragile helpless thing he’d have never agreed to let him talk to Trent in the first place! He’s a fucking _archmage_ , he can handle a little rough water to get the job done!”

Caduceus just stood watching Fjord for a long moment. He was breathing heavily, eyes dark with a deep anger that seemed out of place for what was comparatively a minor argument. The group had disagreed many times before, they were all dynamic individual and butted heads more than once. Yet Caduceus had not seen such a deep rage on Fjord’s face before. There was a darkness lurking under his eyes that the Firbolg recognized from Nicodranas, the air almost heavy with the weight of it.

“It’s getting harder to ignore. Isn’t it.” Caduceus said simply.

“It has nothing to do with that.”

“It’s okay to need help, Fjord.”

“I don’t-“ Fjord stopped taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he fought to stamp down the flash of anger. Caduceus had only ever been patient and a solid grounding source. During the height of the war, the battles where Fjord’s blade and armor were slick with the blood of his opponent, when his own blood sung with the thrill of defeating an enemy, glorying in the power of enacting the pact with Uk’otoa…

“The- Uk’otoa… it’s the reason I’m even here, okay? All my abilities, everything that I’ve been able to do to help bring peace. It’s thanks to him.” Fjord explained, a heavy sigh escaping as all the tension fled from his body. “I have to...”

“Didn’t you say that a debt doesn’t mean ownership? I owe the Wildmother more times over than I can count. She doesn’t hold that over me.” Caduceus replied gently.

“Yeah, and I tried talking to her, remember?”

“I thought it was helping-“

“It was, right up until Gandre. This whole…” Fjord waved his hand in the air, not really sure what word would describe the feeling, then shook his head. “Ever since then, since Nicodranas… yes. It’s been harder to ignore."


	62. Chapter 62

Once Molly had calmed enough, and reassured Jester he was perfectly fine now thank you, he shooed her back to the rest of the group and breakfast. He had no appetite currently, guilt still too heavy in his stomach, and instead asked one of the servants to lead him to Fjord. He supposed he would try to mend that bridge at least a little.

He was told that the warlock had left the mansion, so he followed suit. The returning coil of tension that had built on the journey finding Fjord eased somewhat at seeing Caduceus already speaking to the warlock.

Good, that meant both of them had had time to vent and calm down. Molly lifted an eyebrow at the destroyed punching bags and the mounds of sand underneath them, but said nothing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done the exact same thing, so he wasn’t in any position to judge.

Caduceus stepped away as Molly approached, letting him and Fjord speak, but remained close by to help if needed.

“Hey. Fjord.” Molly called the warlock’s attention as he approached. He stopped a few feet away, looking away with his lips pressed in a thin line. Molly took in a short breath, glancing back to Fjord as he continued. “It wasn’t your fault, I get it, you didn’t know he was still hurt. It’s still shit, but-“

“No. I mean, yes, it was shit, him going in to see Trent…” Fjord sighed, rubbing his forehead as he tried to explain. He was glad of Caduceus’ presence, the grave cleric just far enough away he wasn’t intruding on the conversation, but close enough to mediate the discussion.

“It’s… it’s just some stuff getting to me, I wanted- but I get it, it was a shit move and we probably should have at least discussed it first…”

“You should have.” Molly agreed when Fjord trailed off. “But I get it too, alright? All of this… just… say we call us even?”

Fjord nodded in agreement, Molly turning to head toward the others after an awkward pause. It was an uneasy truce, the bruised feelings and ego’s were going to take more time to heal, but both of them were confident it would. They’d argued before, and would likely argue again, but they were still a close-knit group. The closest thing they each had to family.

The rest of the group had filed out of the mansion, Beau muttering and kicking at the piles of sand in irritation. Molly put on a smile, watching with interest as Caleb dismissed the mansion spell with a flourished movement of his hand and the magical doorway vanished without a sound. Caleb still looked out of sorts, something Molly blamed mostly on himself. He held Frumpkin in one arm, soon curling the other over the cat once the mansion was dismissed.

Good, good. Frumpkin was always a good measure to how Caleb was feeling. Or, at least, the cat wasn’t afraid to warn them to back off when Caleb needed space. Yasha left Caleb’s side and Molly grinned up at her as she walked over to him.

“Molly, are you okay?” Yasha inquired, casting a worried glance over at Fjord. Beau and Nott had joined him and Caduceus, the four of them speaking in quiet tones.

Molly followed her gaze, then turned back to her. “We’ll be fine. We talked, called it a draw.”

“Molly-“

“Yeah, Yasha. I know. I apologized, okay? I lost my temper, that was stupid of me. Did Caleb tell you what happened?” Molly asked.

Yasha shook her head. “No, he did not seem to want to talk. He summoned Frumpkin when Beau and I asked him to, but he hasn’t really said anything.”

Molly let out a slow sigh. “Thank’s Yash. I’ll explain later, but for now…”

Yasha smiled softly, nodding once. “Go on then.”

Molly grinned at her, the expression more natural, before heading over to where Caleb and Jester stood.

Caleb noticed Molly’s approached immediately, almost hyper aware of the movements of the group around him, watching for any shift in their expression. By some miracle, it seemed Molly was not angry with him any longer. Perhaps Yasha had told the Tiefling how obedient he had been during their morning meal (and his lack of). Mollymauk had come straight to him after speaking to her… perhaps he had chosen correctly then.

He did not dare look up as Molly approached, afraid to see disapproval in his eyes.

“Hey, sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to snap at you… It’s been a stressful few days.” Molly apologized softly.

Mollymauk wasn’t close enough to touch, so Caleb knew he wasn’t completely forgiven just yet. But he _must_ have chosen correctly, this way of making amends, if Molly was speaking to him so softly, had approached even this close so soon after his blatant mistakes.

“It, ah, is… fine. I- I should not have lied to you…” Caleb replied cautiously.

“Well, I’m not exactly thrilled you were hurt in the first place.” Molly stated, trying to sound flippant and joking, though it didn’t exactly work. Caleb was nervous, looked uneasy and skittish. Damn, he really shouldn’t have lost his temper, how much progress had he undone with that move?

Molly hurried to continue speaking as Caleb winced slightly, though he otherwise remained perfectly still. The earlier ease and calm from speaking with Jester was quickly winding up into frustrated worry again. “I’m not mad at you though, just… I wish it hadn’t happened in the first place.”

“But you know Caleb, if you’re ever hurt at _all_ , you can tell us, okay? I’m reaaally good at healing spells.” Jester interjected herself into the conversation, much to Molly’s relief. He had a feeling he was doing an abysmal job as reassuring the mage.

“Let’s try not having a next time, how about.” Molly replied to Jester’s offer, gaze flickering to the cleric briefly before refocusing on Caleb. “But yes, please tell someone if you’re hurt, even if it means we wait a minute to hear something you’ve learned. None of us will mind.”

Caleb nodded mutely, not meeting their gaze as he hugged Frumpkin to himself.

Molly tried to smile, worried about Caleb’s continued silence, but other than just talking at him some more, he wasn’t sure what else to do. Maybe Jester had the right idea and they just all needed a day off…

Caleb wasn’t entirely sure what to say, instead settled for nodding his head in agreement. He was thankful he was allowed to keep Frumpkin with him for now, the low vibrations of the fey cat’s purr the one thing keeping him focused and calm.

He needed to be careful not to displease Molly any further, not when he was on the correct path to rectifying his previous mistake.

Neither Jester nor the others seemed to be displeased with him, which left only Fjord.

He thought he might know how to please the warlock, prove his usefulness and loyalty. Fjord had been please with him after he had spoken to Ikithon, the information gained through pain. Fjord was interested in what Caleb could do for him, what he would go through in their name.

With Molly, physical pain was not needed (or wanted) in order to make amends, simple denial of comfort seemed to suffice. Fjord was different. Caleb guessed the warlock did not punish him because the others preferred not to cause him pain. But if that was what was required to bring himself back into Fjord’s approval, Caleb would approach him privately to do so, even if the very thought sent a shiver of fear through him, his hands shaking where they were buried in Frumpkin’s fur.

Fjord would be pleased, he and Mollymauk would not fight, and they would not regret allowing him into their group.

“Hey, Caleb. Ummmm, if something in the mansion was broken, I don’t know how it got that way and all but you know if it was… Is it going to stay that way, or does it fix itself when you cast the spell again?” Jester asked, drawing his attention and giving him an innocent smile.

“Ah… it…” Caleb took a slow breath, swallowing nervously as he tried to think of a reason _why_ she would ask such a question. He could hear no threat beneath her words, no anger or annoyance. “It will, ah, w-will… anything from within the… the mansion will r-repair itself, ah, when- when the spell is cast again.”

“So all these broken dishes and stuff won’t stay that way?”

Caleb shook his head, watching her with wary confusion.

“Oh, good!” Jester exclaimed happily, letting out an over-dramatic sigh as they walked toward the rest of the group. “It’d be really embarrassing if we wrecked your place and all.”

“Wrecked?” The question slipped out before Caleb could stop it, though thankfully Jester did not seem to mind. He would hardly call the mess in the dining area a ‘wreck’ and so wondered what she might be talking about. Fjord and Molly had caused a bit of damage perhaps, but the majority had simply been upturned furniture and scattered food and dishware.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Molly hurried to say.

Caleb’s gaze flickered to Mollymauk briefly before dropping back to the floor. “Of- of course, ah, it- whatever is, ah, is broken will be repaired when the spell is cast again.” He was curious, of course, but tried to push it from his mind as Molly had said.

Fjord let out a sigh as they all gathered, running his hand down his face as he started the conversation amid the group. “Before we discuss who is going with who to do what today, should we talk about when exactly we want to ‘arrive’ here in Rexxentrum?”

“Caleb led Trent to believe we just arrived in Rexxentrum, and that we plan on doing some investigating before we actually make our presence known, so maybe we give it a couple days? He knows that Caleb has the mansion spell and my guess is that’s where he’ll think we’ll be staying out of sight.” Beau stated.

“It might be a good idea for us to do that for real, though. If that’s okay with you, Caleb.” Nott added, glancing over at Caleb. Surprise crossed the wizard’s expression briefly as he nodded automatically. Nott continued at the affirmative, attention shifting from the nervous human. “Since Ikithon thinks we’re investigating the Cobalt Soul, it would look strange if we were staying here.”

“Is it safe to stay in the mansion out in the open?” Fjord question. “What if some mage dispels it. There’s plenty of them that have that capability here.”

“It- it would not harm any of us.” Caleb answer as they all looked his way. He struggled to keep his voice even, to keep from shrinking back under the weight of their attentions. “Anything that is not a part of the mansion spell would simply be, ah… expelled from the interior.”

“So, we won’t vanish into some crazy pocket dimension, that’s a relief.” Fjord said.

“Or anywhere else….” Molly snorted humorlessly. He shook his head slightly as Yasha cast a worried glance at him.

“Should we set that up outside of the city? So that when we get ready to make our arrival, we can just walk up to the gates?” Jester asked. “We probably won’t have to worry about mages that way either.”

“That’ll make it harder to look around in the meantime.” Beau replied, shaking her head. “Some of us could slip in, sure, but I don’t know if we want to risk the guards getting suspicious of us coming and going for the next day or two. Most of us wouldn’t fare too well if a crowns guard caught us and discovered the deception.”

“It doesn’t matter where the mansion is, right? So long as it’s out of the way, you can cast it anywhere, right?” Molly asked, looking over at Caleb who nodded in assent. “Why don’t we make it simple, set up next to the Sunset Inn by the southern gates.”

“And! And! When we _do_ make our appearance, we can get a room there and Trent will just think we’re not smart at ALL, and he won’t even realize we’ve been here this whole time!” Jester stated excitedly.

Beau smirked, chuckling as she cracked her knuckles. “I can just imagine him gloating about how dumb we are. It’ll be amazing the look on his face when I brea-“

“Great!” Jester interrupted, easily able to guess where Beau was going with that and not wanting to make Caleb anymore nervous than he was. She totally agreed with Beau, but maybe now wasn’t a good time to say it like that… “Caleb, if you want to go ahead and cast your fancy disguise spell, we can do some investigating and at the end of the day we’ll meet over by the Sunset Inn!”

“Wait.” Fjord interrupted, grimacing when Caleb twitched in an almost flinch, the wizard’s hand dropping instantly from where he’d been preparing to cast the spell. “We might want to try and blend in little less.”

“Everyone still looking human, but maybe with a little more of their own features and personality showing?” Beau guessed.

Fjord nodded. “Exactly, and I was thinking if, Caleb, you could give me the appearance of a crownsguard instead of monk today, I could make my way into the barracks, see what the guards are talking about off duty.”

“If you wish, yes. I can, ah, I can alter your appearance in that way.” Caleb replied timidly, adding quickly. “A-all of yours. O-ours.”

“Can you alter the appearance after the spell is cast? So we can head out of the Cobalt Soul as monks, then change it so we have more of our features once we’re on the streets?” Fjord pressed.

“I- I am sorry, that… that is not- O-once the spell is cast, I would, ah, would need to cast it again to- to alter your appearance.” Caleb answered, taking a slow breath before adding. “E-even the crystals would n-not extend the limits of t-the spell to allow such alteration.”

“How hard would it be for you to cast it twice?” Beau inquired.

“It is within my capabilities.” Caleb answered, shifting his attention towards the monk but still not meeting anyone’s gaze.

“Do you mind casting it twice? Same one as all the last times now, we’ll make our way toward the southern gate, find a secluded spot, you can cast the modified version?”

Caleb finally looked up at her, a hint of confusion in his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, gaze flickering briefly over to Fjord before replying. “I, ah, I do not mind.”


	63. Chapter 63

Caleb worried.

He had cast the disguise spell the same as he had done the past few days, as they had told him to do, and dismissed Frumpkin with a click of his fingers as the group prepared to leave. Mollymauk and Jester’s joint sounds of disapproval, cut off as they had been, were both unexpected and perplexing. He could not think of anything he had done wrong except perhaps they had not wanted him to send Frumpkin away. He regretting displeasing them, likely furthering the gulf of isolation coming to him, yet there was little he could do to change that.

He could not- _would_ not keep Frumpkin on this plane while they traveled; his friend would be too vulnerable. Caleb could not hold him, the disguise would overlap with the cat and it would be obvious to any who paid attention. Nor did he want to let Frumpkin walk. He was just a cat, these were warriors, one solid blow and his friend would be no more. Never mind the potential threat of the various other inhabitants of the city. It was simpler, safer, to send him away.

They said nothing to him, gave no indication this was the action that had displeased them, and so Caleb was left to anxiously hope he had not inadvertently disobeyed their wishes. Summoning Frumpkin was done by permission, he had not known dismissing the fey cat required the same. How much time would that presumption add onto his isolation? With Frumpkin absent, Jester and Molly walking ahead with their backs to him, Beauregard nearest him but still out of arms reach, it was harder for Caleb to hold onto the façade of calm.

He settled for trying to be as obedient as possible. There were no rules to follow, Molly had made that clear, but he could at least try and be good. He knew his current orders; a simple directive to recast the spell when they reached the inn near the southern gates. The only other task was to create the mansion again, though he was not sure if they wished him to do so now or after the day had passed. For now, he kept his eyes down, listening to the rest of them talking about the current plans.

“We don’t need to ask around about any assassin hiding out here in the city anymore.” Jester was saying quietly to Fjord and Molly, glancing back at the rest of them to make sure they were close enough to hear. “So, what is the plan?”

“I’d say be a bit more obvious about asking questions, focus more on making it sound like we doubt the Cobalt Soul.” Molly suggested. “That way, if anyone is watching or looking for us, that’s what they’ll report back to Ikithon.”

“I’ll be going to the barracks, see if I can find out what the mood is there, maybe figure out the guard rotation or plans for the banquet.” Fjord commented.

Nott slipped over between them, piping up. “Fjord, I’ll go with you.”

“Nott, thanks, but I don’t need-.”

“No, no. That’s a good idea.” Molly interrupted. “Nott can turn invisible, she might be able to find some documents. If you open the doors, nice shiny distraction, no one will notice her slipping in and out.”

Fjord lifted an eyebrow, expression unreadable, but eventually he nodded. “Alright, fine. Nott can come with me.”

“Caleb and Molly and I can head back over to the Tangles. We can talk to some of the vendors and visit some of the shops by the Court of Colors, maybe get noticed a little.” Jester offered.

“Isn’t the point of splitting up to have someone who can cast message with each group…” Fjord complained lightly.

“Yeah, except you and Nott are going off and you didn’t invite meeee, so…” Jester sassed back, grinning at him.

Fjord snorted but didn’t retort. Anything he had to say would come out colored as an insult given his current mood, so silence was better.

Jester and Molly whispered to each other quietly for the rest of the walk, the small build up of tension leaving the bloodhunter along the way. The group broke apart a bit as they made their way through the city, not wanting to draw attention to themselves walking in a tight clump.

The city, as every other day so far, was a bustle of activity. The southern section of the city was mainly residential, aptly named the Mosaic Ward due to the colorful banners and designs of the houses and surrounding fences. They passed through the eastern section of the Ward before coming to a small section of market; some shops, vendors, and their destination: the sunset inn.

The Mighty Nine all filtered one by one into the alley, collectively managing to go unnoticed as they did so.

“Alright.” Fjord stated, turning his attention to Caleb. He was careful to keep his tone even, trying not to make his words sound like an order. “Caleb, if you would recast the spell. Make us all look human, same as always, just more like ourselves. Or just leave our armour and equipment as is, and just change our features. Except for me. Try and make my illusion as close to a crowns guard as you can.”

“Not me.” Nott stated quickly. “I’ll disguise myself, but mostly I don’t want to be seen at all.”

“Same.” Beau spoke up too. “I wanna be able to be me, if I need to. Yash and I are going to go to the Cobalt Soul, poke around there directly.”

Caleb paused for a moment, waiting in case any other requests or exclusions were to come, then recast the disguise spell according to the specifications given. He let out a slow breath at the expense of the arcane energy, shaking his hand slightly to dismiss the small tremor. He made a note of the need for the mansion and would be sure not to cast too many other spells during the day (should any even be needed).

“Oh, good job Caleb!” Jester approved, looking down first at her own disguise then around at the others.

“Ah, t-thank you, Jester.” Caleb replied softly, gaze flickering up at her briefly before hesitantly reminding them all. “The, ah, the spell will last for eight hours.”

As requested, he had made them appear more as to their original selves, or at least his interpretation of such.

Caduceus’ skin was as pale as ever, hair a bit wild and shockingly pink, a trim beard matching the color. Jester he had given light tanned skin, her hair a deeper black in color, rather than it’s normal vibrant blue, and of course lacked the curled horns. Otherwise, her appearance was unchanged.

Mollymauk appeared dark tan, hair a glossy sleek black, in an almost Marquesian fashion. His tattoos remained, the vibrant colors showing vividly against the dark brown skin tone. He was still adorned with his normal jewelry, the entire disguise still holding true to Mollymauk’s natural flamboyant nature.

Per Fjord’s request, he appeared to wear the golden armor of the crowns guard, his features non-descript and completely human. Nott had requested not to be included in his spell, so she remained in her goblin form, though a moment later she disguised herself as Veth.

Beauregard had also not wanted to be changed, instead she simply flipped her coat inside out, let her hair flow down from it’s usual tie, and that was all. Yasha’s skin tone was all he changed for her, being able to do nothing for her size or natural intimidating presence that would be what drew attention to her.

“We’ll make sure to be back before then.” Nott told him, flipping up her hood and following after Fjord who was already leaving via the other end of the alleyway.

“Good luck you guys. Message us if you need some back up.” Beau stated, turning in step with Yasha to go their own way.

Caleb found himself alone with Molly, Jester, and Caduceus. It was vaguely reminiscent of their shopping trip in Nicodranas, except for they all now appeared as human.

Molly turned to Jester, giving her a wide smile and offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

Jester laughed, looping her arm in his. “Yes, we shall!”

Caleb trailed along behind them, Caduceus soon moving to walk beside him as the two Tieflings led the charge.

~~

Beau was a little relieved to be out as herself again.

Not that she really noticed the disguise the past few days. It wasn’t like she felt different, but looking down at herself and seeing the familiar training robes of the Soul was just… weird. It was still strange to look over and see Yasha looking so human. It was like a poor replica of the original, missing the stunning vibrance that made Yasha… Yasha.

The two of them backtracked along the way they had just come, though not completely returning to the dorms and the Library of the Cobalt Soul. Instead they circled around through the Virgil’s Circle market, listening to the town criers for a while, measuring the mood of the peoples. Mainly, they tried to see if they had anyone keeping an eye on them or following them.

After an hour or so of seeing nothing suspicious, Beau and Yasha made their way closer to the Soul.

“Beau. What is it you are looking for?” Yasha inquired, eyes canvasing their surroundings even as she posed the question.

“We’re supposed to be investigating the Cobalt Soul. And Dairon hinted they were part of it anyway.” Beau replied.

“I remember. But why have you waited until now to look around here?” Yasha asked. They’d had many days before this, but Beauregard had been content to focus their investigating outside of the part of the city the Cobalt Soul resided.

“When we first arrived, I told Zeenoth we were trying to lay low, and basically not to tell anyone we were here.”

Yasha nodded agreement and understanding, prompting Beau to continue.

“Even if he didn’t say anything, someone was bound to have heard a sudden arrival at the Soul and be suspicious.” Beau explained, stopping and leaning against a low wall that circled the property of a large residence. “It’s been four days, anyone who might be worried about who might have shown up, who might be looking around, won’t be so worried anymore.”

“So who ever might be betraying your Cobalt Soul might have let their guard down?”

Beau nodded. “Yeah, exactly.”

“So, where are we right now?”

“The Tangles. The Cobalt Soul, the library, dorms, training rooms… those are all that way.” Beau explained, pointing northeast. She pushed away from the wall she’d braced against, continuing at an easy pace along the cobbled streets. “Around here is mostly residential. The monks that don’t live on campus, that’s mostly students, are around here. The main market for the city is that way. I’d guess the rest of the people living around here either work the shops there or manage them. Might be some crownsguard around here, but they mostly live on the east side of Rexxentrum.”

“This is where you grew up then.”

“Yeah, more or less.” Beau agreed. “What I’m looking for right now is the house where Jelani Udessa lives. If I remember right, it should be around here…”

“Is this Jelani a friend of yours?” Yasha asked curiously.

“Hardly. We didn’t get along. But I didn’t get along with anyone back then. She was one of the historians, did a lot of research, and more importantly, was always running back and forth between the Cobalt Soul and the Assembly.” Beau explained.

“You suspect her?”

“Not her exactly. She’d be retired by now. She always said she was too old for intrigue back before I graduated. But, if information were going to be passed around, a strong connection between the Soul and the Academy is the place to start.”

It took them nearly two hours, Beauregard’s memory of the streets had faded over time, but eventually they found the house they were looking for. It was well kept, a two story building with dark navy blue walls and a silver roof. It was closer to the junction of the wall separating the Tangles and the Shimmerward than Beau remembered, only a handful of properties between the building and the large inner city wall.

Yasha located a spot they could observe without being seen, the two of them settling in to watch. They saw a few members of the Cobalt Soul come and go along the streets, though mostly the streets were quiet and empty. This close to the middle of the day, most people were either at the market either shopping or working their place of employment. Their patience paid off as one monk circled around the house, trying far too hard to go unnoticed. Beau and Yasha watched as he inspected a segment of the wall separating the two sections of the city, the monk searching for something for a few minutes. After a while, he put a hand on the wall, the stone seeming to shimmer before he walked forward and vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweats*
> 
> Yeah, I split the party... into 3 groups.   
> It'll be fine. For sure.


	64. Chapter 64

Jester paid enough attention to their current mission for as long as it took to get to the main market and talk to a grand total of three town criers. She didn’t even try to be subtle asking questions; what were the monks up to, were thinks okay in the city, how was the king’s health… By the end of it, she was getting enough odd looks that Molly worried they would get the guard called on them. If anyone was looking for them, they would definitely stand out even with the disguises.

Wisely, Caduceus suggested they move to a different section of the market after the last town crier scurried off looking more terrified than perplexed. He distracted Jester with a street vendor selling jewelry, the bakery next door to drawing her attention soon after, and from there...

From there, they hit up all the shops.

Caduceus convinced her it was not the time to buy any fancy gowns for a party, because they would need to be seen doing that _after_ they received the invitation, but that didn’t stop her from looking. Overall, Jester thought she managed to distract Molly from stewing too much in his own misery. He still looked worried, was watching Caleb almost the entire time. And Caleb... oh, boy, he was a whole tangle of nervous tension. Even with Caduceus next to him almost the whole time he didn't relax. And Caduceus was like... the most calming guy _ever_.

After the however-many-she-had-lost-count shop, and none of her energetic jokes and pranks doing _anything_ to cheer either Caleb or Molly, Jester was very close to giving up. It was very frustrating. Even the bookstore didn’t bring out the same excitement in Caleb like he’d had at the library. Sure he was interested for a _second_ , but then he'd look over at Molly and that was that.

It distracted him a little, enough for Jester to pull Molly aside.

“Okayyyy, come on. What is wrong?” She asked him quietly, putting one hand on her hip. As if she didn't already know. She did, but sometimes these guys could just be so stubborn you couldn't just _tell_ them.

“Who says anything’s wrong?” Molly asked, smiling too cheerfully at her.

Jester lifted an eyebrow at him, sassily conveying just how much she did NOT believe him.

“I’m fine, Jester. Really.” Molly insisted.

“Oh, Molly…” Jester said softly, letting out a long sigh as she flung her arms around him in a hug. She pulled back, leaving her hands on his shoulders as she looked at him. “Why don’t you just go and talk to him? He doesn’t look scared, I’m sure he knows that the whole thing this morning doesn’t meant you’ll hurt him.”

Molly tried to be more convincing with his smile, the hug from Jester making it a little easier.

Jester’s smile was a little strained this time, but she tried her best. Glancing over, she noticed Caleb and Caduceus waiting near the entrance to the shop, the Firbolg apparently having no luck in enticing Caleb to buy something.

Jester took a deep breath, then skipped cheerfully toward them, Molly trailed along slowly after her.

“What do you think you guys, where to next? Maybe the bathhouse, or some lunch, or maybe we can go see if we can find some more town criers, those guys were fun!” Jester said in a quick rush, trying to ignore the awkward tension. “What do you think, Caleb? Are you hungry, you missed breakfast you know.”

“Nein, ah, n-no. Thank you, Jester.” Caleb said politely.

“Oh, Caleb, are you sure? Are you feeling okay?” Jester asked, putting one hand on his arm as she moved closer to feel his forehead.

He suppressed a flinch, heart skipping as her hand lay on his head. He held carefully still, well aware of Mollymauk’s eyes still watching him. He would pass this test, had gained some approval else Jester would not be rewarding him with such gentleness.

“I feel fine, Jester. There is, ah, no need for concern.”

“O-kay, but if you don’t feel well, we can take a break, or go back to the inn, or something you know, okay?” Jester offered, face slightly scrunched as she stepped back and looked at him.

Caleb agreed, though he had no intention of interrupting their plans. He was not in pain, had no injuries, the empty hollow of his stomach was still easy to ignore; he had nothing to complain about.

~~

Something was up with Caleb and, despite Jester’s attempt at making him feel better, Molly couldn’t help but think it was his fault.

He was being polite, as always. Quiet, as always. Followed along with whatever Jester wanted to do, as always. Except for one thing.

Twice earlier she’d offered him a cupcake and pastry she’d bought at one of the bakeries, and he’d turned her down both times. Caleb rarely refused them anything, it made no sense why he would suddenly say no over something so simple. If Molly weren’t so concerned, he might have thought that good progress on the wizard’s part. He'd also showed little to no interest in either of the book stores they'd visited.

It worried Molly, especially hearing Caleb hadn't eaten at all today.

What worried him most was the way Caduceus also watched Caleb, staying close by Caleb's side. Caduceus only focused that much on someone when _he_ was worried. And Molly had learned as well as the others that Caduceus often saw what other people missed. For someone who used to live alone in the middle of a swamp and graveyard, the Firbolg was surprisingly good at reading people.

Two shops later and Molly was finally scrounging up the courage to follow Jester’s suggestion. Talk to Caleb. Easy. Or would be if he didn’t still feel like an idiot for how he’d acted earlier this morning.

About that time, Jester found them a decent looking tavern, directing Molly and Caleb to wait for the bartender while she and Caduceus found them somewhere to sit. It was busy in the tavern, the noonday crowd having come in for a midday meal.

Molly slid into the stool next to where Caleb stood, a foot of distance between them. Caleb half shifted to look at him before stilling completely. He’d felt Molly’s gaze on him throughout the day, watching as Jester tested him. He hoped he had please him enough, had proven his loyalty and resolve to be good.

Molly leaned one elbow on the counter, turning in his seat to face Caleb and propping his chin on his palm. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

Caleb tensed, uneasy anxiety spiking in his chest. “Ah, I… I do not know what you mean.”

“Jester says you didn’t eat breakfast. You barely eat normally in general, but… why do you keep turning her down when she offers you snacks?” Molly explained. “You have that right, I’m not upset with you, but… if it’s about this morning, I really am sorry.”

Caleb hesitated, muscles tensing. He wasn’t sure what the point of this test was… except maybe… Maybe Molly was making sure he had learned his lesson? Perhaps this would be the end of the discipline? That made sense. Often enough, Ikithon would have him recite his failure, drawing promises of future successes and good behavior. Even if Molly approved and he went hungry for the rest of the day, or even week, it would be worth it not to be ignored and forgotten.

Caleb drew in a slow breath, speaking slow and careful, keeping his voice even. “I should not have lied to you. Nor attempted to hide an injury.”

“And because of that you’re not eating?” Molly asked, lifting his cheek from his palm, hand laying across the counter mere inches from Caleb.

It was a test, Caleb was sure now. Molly inching closer with every correct response.

“I…acted inappropriately, and should-.“ Caleb paused, correcting himself. He should be punished, though Molly already enacted that in the form of isolating Caleb from him. Caleb needed to show willingness to make up for the earlier disobedience, the lie. Otherwise he would fail this test. “Ah, I- I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Caleb…” Molly trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment and taking in a long breath. He let it out in a slow sigh, his expression unreadable to Caleb.

The one thing the mage _did_ know was that he had somehow disappointed Mollymauk. The failure burned at him, twisting his stomach in painful knots of anxiety as Molly withdrew his hand. Molly wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t hit him, he’d said… he promised… He wouldn’t even touch him.

Caleb looked down, waiting for Molly to turn away, to leave him alone in his failure like he deserved. Instead of leaving, Molly spoke, drawing Caleb’s attention back to him. There was no anger in those eyes, gaze no less intense through the disguise, just a sad gentleness.

“If you- No, first… you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? That… it was my fault, not yours. And even if you did, and you wanted to make it up to me, this isn’t the way to do it. I just… good memories are so much better.” Molly explained, tone careful and soft. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself, even if it’s just by not eating.”

The knot of anxiety loosened, slowly unwinding as Caleb dissected this new information. It was not a rule, Molly had said there were no rules, but it _was_ apparently a behavior expected of him. It restricted the ways that he might atone for his mistakes with Mollymauk, however. Molly did not wish him to be in pain, would not deal out discipline to him physically. He did not with for Caleb to deny himself food or comfort.

Equally, Caleb couldn’t go back to being ignored, of feeling Molly’s eyes on him, waiting for him to stumble upon the correct answer. It had not even been one day, the discipline less all-encompassing than the first instance, yet he was still desperate for it to end.

The last time he had needed to make up for a mistake had been after he had cast the banishment spell on Molly. He wasn’t sure where lies fell on that particular scale and he was nervous about how far that brand of atonement extended. The uncertainty threatened to paralyze him, fear curling in his stomach as Molly watched him expectantly.

What did he want? What did he wish for Caleb to do? Did he require proof of Caleb’s understanding? Action to make up for the incorrect choice for the original mistake? Grasping at the only example of a possible course of action in Molly’s explanation, Caleb leaned forward, near breathless as he pressed his lips against Mollymauk’s.

This time was far less pleasant, fear coloring the experience. Caleb’s heart thrummed with fearful anxiety, terrified he was choosing incorrectly again, that this would only further damn him. He could not stop himself from expecting Molly to take over, to press forward with aggressive possession. Yet, Molly was soft and gentle, allowing Caleb to break the careful distance he had kept between them, demanding nothing.

Caleb tried to school his breathing to an even pace as he pulled back, eyes glued to the wood grains of the bar beside them. His heart was in his throat, body tensed in anticipation as silence seemed to stretch. He should not have dared... He waited for the anger, for the shame and pain of correction.

Instead of a backhand, Molly’s palm was gentle and warm as the Tiefling touched his face, cupping Caleb’s cheek and turning his head to meet his gaze. Caleb felt a sick sense of relief at the touch. Molly wasn’t angry or disappointed, still graced him with gentle contact, causing no pain. It was okay. He had done well.

“Will you eat something now?” Molly asked, smiling at him sadly.

“Ja. W- ah, if.. if you wish.” Caleb replied, accent thick as he nearly slipped into Zemnian.

“I really really do.” Molly told him.

Caleb nodded, following willingly as Molly stood from his seat. Foolishly, despite the fear of retribution, Caleb reached out to take Molly’s hand, heart racing as Molly hesitated. He didn’t shake him away though, didn’t turn to glare and snarl at his presumption. Instead, he casually led Caleb toward where Jester and Caduceus had claimed a table, awaiting the food they had ordered. Caleb found Molly’s form of discipline odd, his method of balancing the scales made no sense to Caleb. Despite his ineptitude, the misstep of his choices, it had worked. He had pleased Mollymauk.

He need only regain Fjord’s approval, and all would be back in its proper place.

Molly settled Caleb beside Caduceus, sliding in beside him. He couldn’t make himself let go of Caleb, their fingers intertwined even as their shoulders pressed together with how close he pressed beside the mage. As if he could somehow convey how fucking _sorry_ he was just through touch alone.

Watching Caleb eat, feeling every breath he took… it didn’t chase away the guilt. He hadn’t meant to set such a bad standard. Hadn’t meant to force him into doing that. Caleb had been so scared… the look on his face when he’d pulled away…

He could obviously not be trusted alone with Caleb.

Caduceus still watched them, and Molly tried to smile reassuringly, erase the worry in the cleric’s gaze. Maybe he had some insight, some word of advice. Molly would ask him later; Cad probably had _some_ ideas, though it wouldn't be hard to do better than Molly. Everything he did was just one big mess. Staring a fight with Fjord in front of Caleb, making the mage think he was mad at him so much he thought he was supposed to punish himself, making Caleb think he had to kiss him to make up for it.

Molly knew that was a discussion that needed to happen between them, he just wasn’t sure how to do it without making Caleb feel like he’d done something wrong. Again. Maybe he could bring it up with the rest of the group, without specifics, when they all got back together to fill each other in. Hopefully Caleb wouldn’t feel so threatened as if he took him aside one on one. Just...something to let the man know he didn't have to DO things, _any_ things, if he didn't want.

“So, you guys...” Jester interrupted his thoughts, her expression promising mischief. “I heard that there is old woman who can tell your fortune up at the north side of the city. We should definitely go there next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot coming soon... but for now. You got this.


	65. Chapter 65

Beau and Yasha waited a couple of minutes before heading over to where the monk had vanished. Beau traced her hand along the rock wall as they approached the general area, searching for whatever hidden passage lay concealed.

“Really hope he wasn’t using some magic spell to make this work…” Beau muttered to herself, brown furrowing.

Yasha made a short grunt of agreement, tossing a look behind them to make sure they were neither being watched nor followed.

Before long, Beau’s hand met empty air where stone should be. Whether it was residual effect of the person coming by earlier, or just a permanent illusion covering the opening, she wasn’t sure. But she’d found the place and that’s what mattered. She led the way through, entering into darkness.

It wasn’t the sewers; the air was clean and dry, the ground under foot firm packed dirt. It was still and quiet, the tunnel walls made of dirt that crumbled slightly at the touch. Despite the slight crumble of dust, the walls were mostly smooth and Beau would guess made by magic. She didn’t think it could be made quietly or quickly enough not to be noticed otherwise.

Beau moved forward to make room for Yasha to enter behind her, but waited knowing the Aasimar could see better in the darkness. Neither of them had a torch, not that they would light it and risk being noticed by the person they followed. Beau could only just make out the flickering light of what was probably the flames from the torch of the person they followed.

Yasha took the lead wordlessly, Beau following the light sound of her footsteps.

They traveled in silence, choosing stealth over speed while still trying to keep the flickering torchlight ahead in view. After about ten minutes of silent travel, even the air around them an eerie silence, that stillness was broken by the softest clicking noise and a fwip of something through the air. In front of Beauregard, Yasha grunted, staggering back a step.

“Yash?” Beau asked in concern, though she could already guess what happened.

“Uh, found a trap.” Yasha ground out through gritted teeth, still keeping her voice low. It seemed designed to kill rather than alert, no surprise given the presumed mix of ruthlessness of the Assembly and the functional efficiency of the Soul. The sound from the trap hadn’t been loud and she hoped hadn’t carried ahead of them.

“Shit… Someone really doesn’t want us down here. And it’s probably not the thieves guild. They usually rely on misdirection, let people get lost deep in. Not killed a hundred yards from the entrance… You okay to keep going?” Beau muttered.

“I will be fine.” Yasha replied, a light sound of wood on earth as she removed the arrow and let it fall to the ground. “There is a plate, here where I stepped.”

Beau nodded, careful to move around the place (even though she couldn’t see at all) to avoid possibly retriggering the trap.

Yasha moved a little slower now, trying to detect any other traps. Every so often, she and Beau had to pick up the pace a little to keep up with the light ahead of them when it threatened to vanish too far ahead.

The ground sloped downward, the air getting cooler as a result. After another twenty or so minutes of walking, the ground leveled off, no longer descending. As they continued forward, following the slight curve and winding of the tunnel, Yasha found yet another trap similar to the one she had triggered earlier. Guiding Beauregard around it, they both continued forward.

Around the next curve was a straight path, the figure and their torchlight visible in the passageway. Both Yasha and Beau paused, though they were far back enough not to be seen in the darkness. After a moment assuring themselves they hadn’t been discovered, they attempted to match the pace set by their quarry while still being stealthy.

After awhile, the person vanished around yet another turn, and when Yasha and Beau rounded the same, Yasha paused a few feet in.

“What is it?” Beau whispered in question.

“There is a ladder and I think a hatch above, it’s hard to make out.” Yasha explained.

“We weren’t so far back they could have made it up before we caught them.” Beau pointed out. “We should keep following. Come back here later with some of the others, see where it leads?”

Yasha nodded silently, showing her agreement as she continued on the path. It led on seemingly forever, Yasha spotting yet another trap slightly before they came to a fork in the tunnel. Neither of them could see the torchlight of the person they followed, so they took a guess and chose the path to the right.

As they walked, they could tell they were reaching the end of where ever this tunnel led, because the path began to slope upward once more. Still, there was no light from a torch, both Yasha and Beau thinking that the person had either extinguished it or had already left the tunnel.

They hurried forward, the ground leveling once more as the filtered bits of daylight made it through the illusion at the end of the tunnel. About thirty feet from the entrance, there was a flash of green light, a tight circle of sigils flaring on the left wall. It washed over them both, almost drawing the breath from their lungs as pain flaring in every cell of their body. It stopped them in their tracks, both of them dropping to the ground.

Beau gasped in a breath as the light faded, her head pounding as she tried to regain some equilibrium. Yasha was struggling back to her feet, breathing heavy as well but thankfully very much alive. Beau forced herself to her feet as well, swearing under her breath. “I’d guess we’re over by the mages part of town now… fucking knew we shoulda brought Caleb or Cad.”

“What the hell was that?” Yasha questioned.

“Whatever it was, I hope it doesn’t reset…” Beau grumbled. Except if it didn’t, and she was pretty sure magic stuff like that didn’t, then whoever came through here next would know someone had set it off. More concerning was how had the monk they’d followed _not_ set it off?

Too many questions, and her head was killing her right now.

“Come one, lets try and catch up to them.” Beau said, moving ahead and walking past the narrow opening and into the daylight beyond.

The streets here were cobblestone, clean and spacious with stone walls bordering some of the large lawns of the estates. Behind them, hiding the entrance to the tunnel, was the tall inner wall separating the Shimmer Ward from rest of the surrounding city.

Thankfully, their disguises were not disturbed by whatever spell had been activated in the tunnels, the illusion also not showing the damage from either spell or arrows on their persons. Side by side, they made their way down the cobblestone streets, searching for sight of the one they’d followed so far. Three of the eight staggering towers that encircled the Castle Ungebroch were fairly close by, the surround grounds of each an ornate mix of well crafted gardens and expansive mansions.

Beau and Yasha wandered the main road for a while, searching fruitlessly for the monk they’d been following. Instead what they found, was a familiar looking crownsguard with a halfling wobbling unsteadily at his side, both staring at one of the mansions at the base of a tower.

~~

Spending the majority of the day doing menial labor wasn't exactly what Fjord had had in mind when he’d gone to the royal barracks.

Rexxentrum didn’t do anything ‘small’ and that included the royal barracks next to the palace. It wasn’t just one building. It included a small stable, a facsimile of a blacksmith for minor repairs, officer’s quarters, a dining area, and an open courtyard that was used for training. Fjord was pretty sure he’d visited them all before midday.

Getting in had been the easy part. Strangely enough, no one had questioned the sudden arrival of a crownsguard they’d never seen before. Getting anything useful done had proven to be impossible. From the instance he’d stepped into the barracks, it seemed the captain on duty had taken an interest in making his day hell. After a shouting at him for what was probably a good half hour, it had been a constant barrage of orders and menial tasks. It provided a great excuse to move around the barracks, through the officer’s quarters, the training ground…

Anywhere he might have wanted to go, and some places he hadn’t cared about, Fjord was given excuse to investigate. Or at least reason to be there while he let the invisible Nott do the majority of the investigating, which led to her feeling pressured enough to drink just a little too much, and now he had a slightly tipsy goblin to deal with as he finally managed to extract himself from the demands of the guard captain.

All in all, it wasn’t a great day for him.

Hearing an accusing question only added fuel to the fire, Fjord grinding his teeth as he looked over at the disguised Beauregard and Yasha as they approached.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Beau called out to them, one hand on her hip as she tilted her head to regard them.

“Investigating. What are _you_ doing here?” Nott replied, asking the same question in return.

“Followed a monk. Where are we, exactly? We lost him coming out of the tunnels.” Beau told them.

“The Candles, I think. Mages houses. No idea who owns this particular tower.” Fjord answered curtly.

“It must be someone powerful to have all this property.” Nott guessed.

“It’s in spitting distance of the castle, you could throw a rock and it’d land inside the inner walls.” Fjord continued, swallowing a sigh. “Heard a couple of the crowns guard talking about it, mentioned orders, so we came to check it out.”

“Caleb’d probably know who it belongs to.” Beau commented, looking over at the mansion. “And that tunnel we came from has a few exits we should probably find out where it leads to. If it crossed from here to the Tangles, chances are it went under the palace. Might be an escape route. Dunno if we have time to look into both today though.”

Fjord ran his hand down his face with a low sigh. “So, basically we’ve wasted yet another day.”

“Maybe you have.” Beau snorted. “But at lease we know there really _is_ a connection between the Cobalt Soul and the Cerberus Assembly. And it’s to one of the assholes living in one of these towers around here.”

“Because the tunnel led here, and these three are closest?” Yasha guessed at Beau’s logic.

The monk nodded, then shrugged. “It’s a good a guess as any, seeing as we lost the guy and couldn’t follow him to where-ever he was actually going. Narrow down which of the Assembly leaders are possibly working with people from the Cobalt Soul and that’ll make it easier to figure out who’s the traitor.”

“Not too many of either group work with each other peacefully.” Fjord stated.

“Exactly my point. And a secret passage that goes under the castle? That’s pretty good proof to bring to the king.” Beau shrugged, wincing as the movement reminded her of the soreness from that spell. She shook her head at Yasha's concerned look, knowing the Aasimar was hurt just as much, then refocused on Fjord and Nott. “Yasha and I are headed to the inn, hopefully Caduceus and Jester are back… Whoever it was made those tunnels left some nasty surprises…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look. Plot things.


	66. Chapter 66

Beauregard, Yasha, Fjord, and Nott all made it back to the alley beside the Sunset Inn well before the rest of the group. Fjord leaned against the side of the inn, arms crossed and looking decidedly grumpy while Nott sipped from her flask perched atop an empty crate. Beau found a couple of sturdier crates for her and Yasha, the two of them leaning against each other tiredly. It was well into the afternoon at this point and none of them cared about the occasional strange looks they received when a passerby noticed them loitering in the alley.

So long as no one called the guard, none of them cared.

It was an hour or so later when the rest of them arrived. Caduceus was nodding his head as Jester chattered at him. Caleb and Molly were a step behind, the blood hunter walking close enough beside the mage that their shoulders touched.

“Oh, hi you guys!” Jester greeted them cheerfully.

“Hey.” Beau returned, eyes drifting over to Caleb. “Caleb, you mind dropping this? Yasha could use some healing, might be easier without the disguise covering it up.”

“Of- of course.” Caleb answer, obediently lifting a hand and tugging at the arcane energy, the illusions melting away a moment later.

“Ohmygosh what happened??” Jester squeaked, hurrying over to the two of them.

“We’re fine, just ran across a few surprises following a lead.” Beau answered, frowning at the blood on Yasha’s torso. There wasn’t a lot, the arrows had likely not pierced too deep past her armor, but still…

“How’d you guys do today?” Beau asked, glancing over at Caleb as he knelt and began casting the spell for the mansion.

“Oh, well, you know, we talked to some town criers, some shop keepers, ummmm…” Jester hedged, patting Yasha’s shoulder as she awkwardly looked up at the sky. Pink energy closed up the small wounds, Yasha smiling up at her in thanks a moment later.

“So basically, you guys goofed off most of the day?” Beau grinned teasingly.

“Nooooo….” Jester dragged the word out, holding out a hand and pulling Beau to her feet with a healing spell when she took it. “We also went shopping in case we needed any supplies.”

“Did you get any supplies?” Yasha asked.

“….not exactly.” Jester admitted, hurriedly changing the subject. “But what about you guys, what did you do that got you into so much trouble? I thought you were just going to the Cobalt Soul?”

“We were, and we did…” Beau explained, recounting her and Yasha’s journey for the day as they all entered the mansion when the arcane doorway appeared.

“Wait…” Molly questioned once Beau had finished retelling their day and the group had followed Caleb to one of the mansions comfortable sitting rooms. “You’re really telling me there’s a secret tunnel going straight underneath King Dwendal’s castle? And it leads out right beside the towers that the Assembly leaders live in?”

“Basically goes from the corner of the Tangles to the corner of the Candles.” Beau said simply. “Figured Caleb could show us around the Candles, tell us who lives in what tower? One of them has to be working with the monks, we find out who’s there, I can talk to some of the other Expositors, see who might be acting suspicious.”

Caleb glance over at Molly beside him briefly before answering, still somewhat surprised at how easily he had gained the Tiefling’s forgiveness. “I can do that, yes.”

“Oh, and we can check out the rest of those tunnels while you do that!” Jester offered.

“There were some traps, one of them was magic.” Beau warned. “We… might have set it off… And if they notice, they’ll probably reset it and might add more…”

“What- ah, if, ah, if it was a magical trap, many of those are, ah, are triggered by proximity. Knowing where… where it is, it should be simple to avoid.” Caleb offered, tensing and dropping his gaze as their attention turned his way.

“Would Caduceus be able to see it with his detect magic spell?” Jester asked, glancing over at Caduceus.

“Ja, ah, y-yes.”

“Perfect! So you and Beau can go see who lives where-“

“Count me in for a tour.” Molly interjected, giving Jester a grin.

“You and Beau and Molly.” Jester corrected, sticking her tongue out at the purple Tiefling. “And the rest of us will check out the tunnels!”

“So, what about you, what did you ‘waste a day’ doing?” Beau asked, turning her gaze towards Fjord.

“Found out someone at the Assembly is sending orders to the crownsguard.” Fjord said with a shrug.

“I found a map of the castle!” Nott added. “And I swiped a couple of the older orders that one of them left laying around. Looks like they’re in code, but if we can't find out what they say, maybe we can at least compare handwriting? Figure out who wrote them?”

“Lemme see it, I know a lot of that stuff.” Beau stated, holding out a hand.

“I was actually thinking Caleb could look at it. Since it’s from the Assembly and he’d know them better.” Nott countered, looking over at the mage.

“Oh, ah, yes, I- I can. But sending coded messages in such a way would be, ah, pointless. For the Assembly. As a message spell is more secure.” Caleb explained carefully.

“Pointless or not, it’s what we found.” Fjord grumbled.

“Y-yes, I did not- ah, Nott, I- I can look at them now, if you wish?” Caleb asked, trying to keep his breathing even and calm. He was supposed to be trying to get back in Fjord’s approval, not make things worse by contradicting or invalidating his work of the day.

“Sure.” Nott agreed, handing over two slips of paper.

Caleb accepted them carefully, glancing over at Molly as he stood and headed over to one of the mansion servants to request they bring them all some food.

Refocusing on the task given to him, Caleb opened the letter, scanning briefly over the contents. He didn’t recognize it as any sort of code, though some of the words he though were simply in a different language. Many of them in fact. A comprehend languages spell might be useful… or would rule out his theory at least.

Caleb shifted slightly as Molly returned, giving the Tiefling room and himself enough to retrieve a pinch of salt and soot from his components bag. He spread the material in his palm, drawing a symbol in it as he spoke the brief incantation, the arcane energy burning it away in a brief flash of light. He closed his eyes briefly, a wave of fatigue washing over him. The multiple disguise spells, as well as the mansion and the day of wandering the city following Jester; that combined with a lack of proper nutrition for the day had left him with less reserves of energy than he’d anticipated. He pushed away the weakness; he should be focusing on his task.

He turned his attention back to the letter, reading over it carefully as the spell rearranged the foreign languages into those he understood. It took a little longer, even though the letter was short, barely half a page. The second was a little longer, with repeated instructions along with more detail.

“Ah, it- it is not code so much as it is a, ah, a mix of languages.” Caleb explain softly, offering the letters back to Nott. “They appear to be instructions mostly. Directions for, ah, who should be stationed nearest the throne room. There are, ah, no names I am afraid.”

“Hey, that’s more than we had to go on before. You recognize the handwriting?” Beau asked, accepting a platter one of the ethereal servants handed her.

“I… No, I am sorry. I do not.” Caleb replied anxiously, shoulders tensing.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Beau stated evenly, waving a hand unconcernedly.

“Caleb, could you translate it? That way, Jester and I could work on recreating the map I saw, and we can add where these guards will be.” Nott suggested.

Caleb nodded, relaxing at the simple request. “Ja, I can do that.”

The task was completed quickly, Nott thanking him as she took the translated papers. She and Jester took off after that, heading to make the promised map before the Nott lost all the important details of the castle layout.

Fjord drifted off to his room shortly after, saying little but still looking irritable.

Caleb accepted the plate of food Molly handed to him, picking at it lightly as it seemed it was important to the Tiefling. His stomach was too tightly knotted for him to feel truly hungry, worried about Fjord’s continued ire. Beau had all but pointed out how their group had done nothing all day. Caleb’s idleness and pathetic contribution of translating the letter were hardly anything that would impress the warlock.

After ten or so minutes, hopefully long enough none of the others would take offense, Caleb stood and handed his half full plate of food to one of the servants. “Ah, if.. if it is alright, I will, ah, I should get some rest?”

“See you in the morning.” Beau said offhand, barely glancing up at him.

Molly gave him a tight smile and a wave, Caduceus bidding him a good night, and the wizard left.

Beau turned to Molly soon after, giving him a dry look. “Okay, spill. You’ve been staring at him practically since you all showed up, and you haven’t gone more than three feet away from him for more than thirty seconds. What’s going on?”

“It’s not exactly nice to gossip about people the instant they leave the room.” Molly snorted.

“Well you sure as hell weren’t bringing up the awkward while he was here, and you know you wanna talk about whatever it bugging you, so spill.” Beau replied without missing a beat.

“….”

“Is it because he kissed you?” Caduceus spoke up when Molly remained stubbornly silent, his tone purposefully blank and forthright given the subject matter.

Beau choked on her drink, sputtering and looking between the two of them. “He did what?”

“How did you know about that?” Yasha asked, head tilting in confusion as she looked at Caduceus.

Caduceus returned her look, equally as puzzled by her question. “How did you?”

Molly flushed a deep violet, throwing a glare over at Beau as she started smirking. “It’s not what you think!”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been making eyes at him for days now, don’t tell me you-“

“Shut up, Beau.” Molly snapped, eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. “He only did it this time because he thought I was mad, because he thought that’s how he was supposed to… to fucking make it up to me. He was fucking scared, okay?”

“He was acting all weird and I thought it was because of this morning. Jester said go talk to him, so I did because he wasn’t- he hadn’t eaten anything, apparently wasn’t _planning_ to, because he got it into his head he’d done something wrong, and when I told him that wasn’t the way to fix it, he just… Fuck, I didn’t _mean_ it like that.” Molly explained, all the tension and fight just vanishing in an instant.

Beau paused for a long time, placing her cup on a side table. She leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees as she cleared her throat. Putting on her best casual tone, she asked. “ _This_ time?”

“Oh, gods dammit…” Molly growled, burying his face in his hands.


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order a helping of drama and angst with a side of bad decisions?

Caleb summoned Frumpkin once he had reached his room and the door closed securely behind him.

Fjord was upset, that was easy for Caleb to see, though he could not quite tell if the warlock was still angry with him. Not that it likely matter; Fjord was not pleased, that much was clear.

Caleb certainly hadn’t helped his situation by contradicting the warlock’s contribution of Nott’s discovery of the letters. And he had been proven right, the letters were useful, only further proof of Caleb’s own useless failure.

As much as Caleb looked at the situation, there was only one clear path to take to try to mollify Fjord. He was so close to righting the imbalance he had caused, this one last thing and it would be okay.

Caleb sat on the floor in front of the door, holding Frumpkin close and speaking to him softly in Zemnian. He said nothing of significance, simply repeated old folk tales, spell recipes, conversations he’d had in the past. Frumpkin listened attentively, even with the pointlessness of the context, while Caleb let his native tongue encompass his thoughts.

Even if Fjord were angry, even if he chose to discipline him as Caleb was used to, it would be worth it. So long as he was allowed to stay. Even with his recent slip ups, it was so easy to please them, they even rewarded him for doing well. They were odd, difficult to read and contradictory in their orders at times, but… he thought perhaps he liked them.

Eventually, Caleb dismissed Frumpkin and stood to his feet. If he delayed any longer, he would never go at all. Would hide like a coward here and not face the consequences of his actions.

Leaving his own room, he found his way to Fjord’s. He hoped not too long a time had passed, hoped the warlock was not sleeping. He wished to make amends, correct the discord he had created between the group, not infuriate the man by waking him. He didn’t give himself time to hesitate, to give in to the weakness that made his pulse race. The weakness that screamed at him to turn around and walk away.

He needed to fix this, to not be _useless_.

Instead, he pushed those instincts aside, lifting a hand and knocking on the half-orc’s door. It didn’t take long for Fjord to answer, the door opening in short order to reveal the warlock changed out of his armor into simple sleeping clothes.

“Caleb…” Fjord spoke Caleb’s name, sounding surprised but not angry. The lack of fury didn’t ease his anxiety at all and Caleb forced himself to focus as Fjord continued speaking. “I didn’t expect… Did you need something?”

“I- ah, I wou- ah, may… may I s-speak with you?” Caleb struggled to get the words out, the failure bringing a flush to his face, shame creeping in with the fear.

“Okay… yeah. Come on in.” Fjord replied, brow furrowing and still sounding vaguely surprised. He stepped back, turned and moving over to the other side of the room, busying himself with his armor and equipment laid out on the foot of the bed. “What did you want to talk about?”

His heart was racing in his chest, hands shaking with fear as he entered at Fjord’s permission, but this had to be done. His pulse thudded in his ears as he tried to hold onto his resolve, the door shutting with an ominously light click behind him. He… he could do this. It would be okay, after this.

Just… just like Trent. Actions and consequences. He had disobeyed, had defied, had contradicted. There were no rules, but those actions were still not allowed.

It was his fault, he must pay the price to make things right again. Despite his fear of the unknown extent of Fjord’s method of correction. He had defied the warlock, disobeyed him. That had been the beginning and that was the transgression he needed to make up for.

Carefully, slowly, Caleb knelt in the center of Fjord’s room, folding his arms behind him obediently. He spoke carefully, trying to keep any tremor from his voice, choosing his words to sound appropriately remorseful. He needed to prove he was sorry, but he could not help but try, hope, that some of the coming pain would be lessened if he could convince Fjord he really _meant_ it.

“I… am sorry. I did not… mean to be the cause of… of disagreement. I should not have lied to Mollymauk. I had… I had only meant- I did not want to upset him. I should not have- have disobeyed you or- or, ah, contradicted you earlier.”

“Caleb, you-“ Fjord began with a sigh, stopping short as he turned and saw the mage on his knees. In an instant, Fjord’s eyes darkened. With a sharp intake of breath, he took a half stride forward before he went rigid with tension, freezing mid stride.

Fjord closed his eyes, grinding his teeth against the taste of salt water, the dark thrill of power humming through his blood. He forced himself to step back, not trusting himself to open his eyes and see such an… an offer… But no. No, he didn’t…

“Caleb.” Fjord ground out the words, tone a near guttural growl. “I need you to message Caduceus and tell him to come here. Now.”

Fjord didn’t trust himself to walk past Caleb to the doorway to tell one of the mansion servants to fetch the Firbolg, nor did he want to test his control by having Caleb move right now. Or better yet _leave_. It was hard enough staying in place, hard enough with the visual memory of Caleb on his knees, vulnerable and- It wasn’t _him_. It wasn’t _his_ instinct telling him to stride forward, to reach out and… and… **_punish_**.

__

_He could see nothing but dark ocean all around him, the oppressive weight of the water, the taste of salt burning at the back of his throat. It was black as pitch, a night sky with no stars, a dark abyss of empty space. Like a blade cutting through the darkness, a slit of burning orange appeared and grew into a gold orb fiercely gazing at him._

_Fjord was miniscule in comparison to the eye, the fury contained in it paralyzing his body. The pressure grew, pinpointed around his chest, his arms, binding him tight. Black tendrils wrapped around him, a rigging word echoing in his mind as pain lanced through him._

_**RETURN** _

_Fjord had defied his patron, walked away to pursue his own matters. Had ignored the call to return to the ocean, to the sea he had been reborn out of._

_**RETURN** _

_He would. He would, he swore it, he just needed more time. He needed…_

_**PUNISH** _

_The black tendrils tightened with crushing strength, making it hard to breath hard to think. On instinct, Fjord lashed out, struggling to break free. He reached up, grasping and squeezing, fighting against a pull, head pounding with Uk’otoa’s echoing voice in his mind._

_**PUNISH** _

____

__“Fjord! Fjord!”_ _

__Fjord gasped, muscles going lax as he let Caduceus pull him back. He dragged in panted breaths, confused and horrified as Caleb fell forward, no longer supported by Fjord’s hands at his throat. The mage coughed with labored breaths, one hand braced against the floor as the other touched gingerly as his neck. Caleb was still on his knees, head hung low currently. Blood dripped in tiny droplets onto the floor beneath him, twisting Fjord’s stomach in a hollow feeling of horror._ _

__Caduceus let him go, moving to kneel next to Caleb and place a hand softly on the mage’s back as he spoke a soft question. Caleb still flinched, shuddering and nodding, and Fjord backed further away._ _

__“Gods, I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t… Is he okay? Caduceus, is he-?”_ _

__“He’ll be fine.” Caduceus answer, hands glowing a light green briefly and a moment later Caleb no longer struggled to draw breath._ _

__Fjord breathed out in relief. He stepped back again, legs hitting the side of the bed. He sat down heavily, burying his face in his hands. “Can… can you take him, please? Just… away, somewhere, anywhere?”_ _

__Anywhere not here, not where he could… His vision blurred, darkness and the scent of the ocean threatening to overwhelm him._ _

__“Fjord-“_ _

__“Caduceus, please, I can’t…”_ _

__Caduceus frowned, looking Fjord over for a long moment as he helped Caleb to his feet. Fjord’s knuckles were white, his body tense where he sat. Whatever was going on in his head, he was still struggling with it._ _

__“Alright.” Caduceus agreed. It was probably wise for Caleb to leave right now. Besides, after Beau’s strongly worded lecture to Molly, and Molly’s promises to talk to Caleb about their own issues going on, it was a good excuse to not leave Caleb alone for now. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Okay.”_ _

__“…yeah.. yeah…” Fjord muttered, not looking up at them._ _

__Caduceus turned his attention to the wizard in question, looking him over once more. The crescent shaped cuts on his neck from Fjord’s nails had healed, the blood remaining just thin strips rolled down across his collar bone. The skin was still slightly reddened, but probably wouldn’t bruise thanks to his healing spell. Caduceus had put more strength into the spell than normal, having perhaps panicked a little when he’d realized how good a job Fjord had done at crushing the man’s windpipe._ _

__“Caleb?”_ _

__Caleb nodded wordlessly, following Caduceus out as the cleric turned to leave. He was still shaking slightly with unease, the preplanned direction of this not at all following according to how he’d imagined it would go. The discipline from Fjord was not unexpected, it was the whole reason he had approached Fjord. It was Fjord’s shocked and… and guiltily regretful reaction that had been unexpected._ _

__Caleb had thought he’d chosen the correct course of action based on Fjord’s behavior prior to and after he had spoken with Trent. His growing frustration in the past week had also been familiar territory, as had attempting to navigate around a displeased temper. Yet, somehow, Caleb had still acted incorrectly._ _

__Fjord wasn’t happy with him, but he wasn’t angry either. I made little sense. Contradictions between members of the group he could understand, but within one person made figuring out what he was supposed to say or do near impossible._ _

__“Will you be alright?” Caduceus asked, looking him over carefully._ _

__“I… Yes, Caduceus. Thank you.” Caleb answered, not even in pain thanks to the clerics work. It was so contrary to how he was used to discipline. Unless… he had misread Fjord completely… It was difficult remembering clearly how he’d acted upon their first meeting, those days and many following colored by Caleb’s own fearful expectation. But… he had been similarly as patient as Molly or Beau, though less physical in demonstrating such._ _

__Until here, in Rexxentrum, when Caleb had attacked them. But if that was the issue, why had he hesitated, why had he called Caduceus instead of just taking his retribution? He had to be missing something…_ _

__“Good good. If it’s okay with you, I know Molly had something he needed to speak with you about.” Caduceus said, interrupting Caleb’s thoughts._ _

__“Will Molly be angry again?” Caleb asked, the question slipping out before he could think better of it._ _

__Caduceus paused, tilting his head in consideration. “Not at you, though he might be upset with Fjord. But once the whole thing is explained, it’ll work itself out.”_ _

__Caleb nodded, though still worried. He cast a quick prestidigitation cantrip, cleaning the small amount of blood from his person. Caduceus would likely tell Mollymauk what had happened, so Caleb wasn’t trying to hide anything, but he knew Molly would be upset if he arrived looking bloodied. No matter what the reason for it. If Caduceus did not bring it up, it would likely be Caleb’s responsibility._ _

__He doubted Molly would be pleased with him, despite what Caduceus said. And if he were going to be upset anyway, perhaps Caleb might as well risk asking what he had done wrong with Fjord. If he were going to need to make an atonement, he might as well at least try and gain some semblance of solid ground regarding his place among them._ _

__Caduceus said nothing of the decision, simply led Caleb toward Molly’s room and knocked on the door. The blood hunter opened it, not at all surprised to see them, so Caleb guessed Caduceus had planned on bringing him here even before Caleb’s messaged had called him to Fjord’s quarters._ _

__“Caleb, just who I was hoping to see.” Molly said with a smile, barely glancing at Caduceus. “You got a second?”_ _

__It only proved Caleb’s presumption, though he still glanced up at Caduceus by habit. The cleric gave the both of them a polite nod, turning to leave with a parting comment. “I’ll just leave you two talk.”_ _

__Caleb paused until Caduceus had turned to leave before shifting his attention to Molly. “Of course. Ah, what… would you like to talk about?”_ _


	68. Chapter 68

Molly blinked in silence for a moment, watching Caduceus leave before looking over at Caleb. Caleb couldn’t fathom the expression the bloodhunter wore, a mix between wariness, resignation, and… reluctance perhaps? Anxiety curled tightly in his stomach, Caleb’s mind racing as he wondered _what_ Mollymauk could possibly wish to discuss to provoke such emotion from him.

“Uh, I… well… you want a drink?” Molly hedged suddenly awkward, tossing a thumb over his shoulder to the room behind him.

A drink? Caleb was more confused than ever at the offer but nodded his head obediently. He followed Molly within the room, closing the door gently behind him as Molly moved to poke at a couple of glass cups, though he did not pour any drinks.

Caleb drew in a breath to speak but no words came out, the mage feeling far too uneasy at Molly’s odd behavior. He couldn’t think of anything he could have done to offend the Tiefling. Molly couldn’t know what had transpired between him and Fjord, hadn’t seemed upset when Caleb had left to go to his room earlier… unless… Unless Caduceus had told them that he had messaged him, had called him away from what might have been an important conversation?

“So, about what happened at the tavern this afternoon, if that was because of the whole ‘making it up to me’ like with the banishment spell… I didn’t mean for you to think that’s a…a rule, or something.” Molly finally began, speaking far too carefully.

Caleb _had_ done something wrong then. He had miscalculated _again_ and Molly had been kind enough not to discipline him there, but now they were here, alone. Caleb wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to keep them from shaking. What would this cost him?

“As far as shitty things to make someone do, that’s right up there with worst one ever. I don’t want to pressure you into that, or anything else you’re not comfortable with. If-“ Molly stopped as he turned around, brow furrowing.

Caleb flinched, looking down as he apologized, unable to keep his voice from shaking. “I a-am sorry, I- I did n-not… I thought that-“

“Hey, no, it’s fine, you’re fine, the whole thing was fine.” Molly hurried to explain. He wasn’t mad, didn’t want Caleb to even thing for a second that he was, even if that was a lost cause at this point. “It’s just… if it scares you… please, don’t do it. That’s not something you have to do, okay? I can be a bit of flirt sometimes, but I am really sorry if I made you feel like you had to do that.”

“I do not understand… how else to, ah, to make it up to you when I fail…” Caleb said, cringing at what was practically an excuse. He was so useless, a failure. He could not even do this correctly. He closed his eyes, muscles so tense he was almost trembling. He wanted to ask, beg if he had to, for Molly to please _please_ explain just what was he supposed to do?

His throat was still sore, the feeling of phantom hands around it lingered still, and he did not want to displease Mollymauk. He wasn’t supposed to ask questions. Questioning them crossed a line, was paramount to disobedience and incurred correction. Yet… when he opened his eyes it was Molly, not Trent. There was no anger, just a worried concern.

He drew in a breath, opening his mouth to speak, though soon shut it and looked away, heart pounding. It wasn’t his place to ask, to question. Master Ikithon gave additional information or not at his own discretion, had _hated_ being questioned, Caleb could not struggle past that rule even with the gentleness of Molly.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Molly spoke up, sounding sad, his expression matching his tone when Caleb looked up at him.

“I- I know, thank you, Molly.” Caleb said quietly.

“Not exactly something you need to thank me for…” Molly said in a strained tone. “Is it something I did, or said? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“N-no. I- I should- I- I know I should, I do not wish to displease you…” Caleb hedged, trying to figure out how to word the request without making it sound like he was trying to question Molly’s actions or methods.

“Caleb, whether I’m ‘pleased’ or not, it doesn’t change how I’ll treat you. No punishments or corrections, remember?” Molly provided, not clearing the matter up for Caleb one bit.

“Then why-“ Caleb cut off the question, drawing in a sharp breath and stepping back before freezing.

“Hey, it’s okay, you can ask questions you know.” Molly assured him gently.

“I, ah, I a-am not questioning you, I j-just…” Caleb stuttered, unable to keep from tensing in apprehension.

“Is this like that whole thing about a private room? I’m saying one thing and you take it a different way?” Molly guessed helplessly. “I want to help you understand, but I can’t if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Caleb nodded, forcing himself to breath evenly. Yes. Yes, he remembered that. Molly had explained he hadn’t meant the offer of privacy as a threat of punishment after Caleb had explained his own interpretation of the offer. The same might apply in this instance. Molly had not gotten angry at him asking questions then, he tried to believe now would be no different.

“You… you don’t use physical forms of discipline, and you say there are no corrections or- or punishments, but…” Caleb hesitated, throat constricting with anxiety. He shouldn’t be contradicting Molly, shouldn’t be questioning his methods. He would deserve any correction this incurred, his stomach already sinking in anticipation of the disappointment sure to come his way.

“I don’t like- I… I mean I…” Caleb let out a breath, words spill out pleadingly, accent thick. “I can be good, I can be useful, please. If you want to punish me, that is your right, but don’t leave me alone and ignored, I will do what ever you wish.”

Molly stared at him blankly for a moment, head tilting slightly as his brow furrowed. “What?”

Caleb flinched, backpedaling quickly at the question. Of course, Mollymauk was confused, the audacity Caleb had at attempting to subvert what was an obviously effective corrective method. “I- I am s-sorry, I did not mea-“

“Hey, swe- Caleb, I just meant that I don’t understand what you mean.” Molly hurried to interrupt, keeping his tone light and hopefully calming. “That wasn’t me being mad, okay? Let’s just… back up a moment.”

Caleb nodded automatically, folding his arms behind him as he looked away, waiting. Mollymauk would tell him how out of line he was, would send him away with disapproval and disappointment. He wished Mollymauk would just hit him, that the world would make sense again. His entire life had been rules, actions and consequences. The consequences had always been painful, but relatively brief. Now there were no rules as such, but consequences still. Not brief, but days upon days of feeling worthless and rejected, desperately searching for the correct response to earn back his place.

Molly carefully stepping up to him and tugging his arms back to his side was unexpected and Caleb found his gaze drawn to the Tiefling. “The main thing here: No one has the ‘right’ to punish you. We don’t own you.”

"Yes, Mollymauk." Caleb answered obediently, anxiety curling as Molly frowned. How had that been the incorrect response?

“You don't... owe us anything either. And you can ask anything you want. None of us want to hurt you.”

“Is there-“ Caleb stopped, hands shaking as fear and relief warred within him at the feeling of Molly’s hand still laying gently on his arm. He focused on that grounding touch, the lack of pain, forcing himself to speak. “Is there not a, ah, a hierarchy to, ah, to the group? Some- some form of d-discipline to…”

Molly shook his head, seeming to understand even though Caleb couldn’t get his throat to form the rest of the question. “Yes and no. We have to have someone to head up things, sign the contracts and all that. But between us, we’re all equal. No one gives orders for the rest to follow. We all just… help each other out. Talk about things, pick a best option. We want to know your opinion on things too, your ideas for how to do things.”

“Ah, I… Fjord did not- he seemed, ah, displeased when- with, ah…” Caleb explained, heart speeding as he tried to explain, to bring himself to tell Molly.

“Cad mentioned earlier, said you messaged him for Fjord, he needed him to come to his room?” Molly asked gently, head tilting in curiosity.

“Y-yes, ah, I h-had… p-please, do not be angry…” Caleb asked, voice light and pleading.

“It’s fine, you can message whoever you want, whenever. Jester does it all the time. You’ll have to ask Essek about it someday.” Molly chuckled, smiling at a memory. He shook his head, still smiling though his tone was serious. “And Fjord’s been an ass recently, I’m sure he’ll get around to explaining himself."

Caleb nodded again, guiltily relieved at Molly’s misunderstanding. Given this new information, it was obvious Molly would not approve of his method of attempting to make amends with Fjord. The warlock’s reaction, what he’d done in general, would only serve to anger Molly. He didn’t want Molly to leave angry again, to fight with Fjord.

He was still following Molly’s request. Tell someone if he was hurt. But he was no longer hurt, Caduceus had healed him already. The remaining soreness was not an injury, simple aftermath. He knew it was not full obedience, following the letter rather than the meaning behind it, and what had happened would be found out eventually...

“Now, what do you mean leave you alone and ignore you? Believe me, it’s nearly impossible for me to ignore you.” Molly asked, trying for humour to lighten the mood.

Caleb paused warily before answering, unsure why Molly did not understand that at least. Had it not been the focus of how he preferred to administer discipline?

“You, ah, that- that is… you h-have said there are no punishments or- or correction, but… I had done… something to- to displease all of you during the journey to Zadash. I- I didn’t understand at- at first, but each of you are always close to someone, but I had done something wrong to be excluded each evening…” He explained, choosing the more extreme instance of the correction as an example.

“Oh…” Molly muttered, brow furrowing in thought before his eyes widened in sudden realization. “Oh, Caleb, no. No, no, no. That’s not- I’m so sorry, fuck, no, we weren’t trying to punish you, we just… You were so nervous, we just wanted to give you space.”

“T-that was… ah, t-today though… You- you were angry, this morning, and- and left…” Caleb asked warily, still nervous about questioning Molly but encouraged by the lack of anger and outrage. “I… I know I should not have- have lied, have-“

“No, like I said, I wasn’t mad. I just… the whole thing with Fjord, I was an idiot, got carried away, I just… I didn’t want to crowd you, especially after yesterday with you going to see old that bas-. Molly’s expression twisted in a disgusted look at the mention of the Assembly mage, though smoothed out again as he continued. “We’re all a bunch of idiot assholes, and none of us really know what we’re doing. So, if we’re doing something that hurts you, or something you don’t like, you can say so. Please, please say so.”

“I…I will try. I do n-not… I do not want you to regret the decision to- to allow me to remain.” Caleb explained shakily, gaze skirting away from Molly’s.

“You can stay with us as long as you want. That’s your decision. I like you, so does Yasha; pretty sure Jester and Beau do too, and Nott and Cad. Fjord’s a nice guy most of the time, he’s just got a stick up his ass right now, for whatever reason…” Molly snorted, shaking his head. “Point is, no one regrets you joining us.”

Caleb nodded, unsure how to respond. He wanted to be relieved, to be secure knowing he would be allowed to stay. Molly said it was his decision. It was a new concept, something he’d rarely been given. He wanted to trust them, knew most of them would not harm him at least. Even if he could not help the way his heart skipped when they were close around him at times.

“Danke- ah, thank you, Molly.” Caleb said, correcting himself back to common quickly. He didn’t think Molly would be angry. Fjord had said before that he could speak what language he wished, and Molly had all but agreed.

Reassuringly, when Caleb dared look up from the floor, Molly’s expression was still calm and gently.

“Again, not something you have to thank us for.” Molly said, letting out a dry chuckle. It wasn’t funny at all, he knew Caleb had _meant_ the thanks. He did that so often, thanked them for common decency.

There was a short awkward silence, then an even more awkward dance of Caleb almost asking permission to leave, before he shuffled his way out of the room presumably headed to his own.

Caleb had left hopefully less afraid than before, but Molly still worried.

Caleb said he would ‘try’ to tell them when something was wrong. Which, as far as Molly was concerned, meant he probably wouldn’t say anything unless he was literally dying, and even then Molly had his doubts that Caleb would speak one syllable of complaint.

He sighed, leaning against the door. All of that paled in comparison to dawning realization that Caleb really thought so little of himself. He truly believed it and was still afraid that they would send him back. Because despite what they told him, he still spoke as if they could do whatever they wanted with him and he had no say. Gods, the wizard was going to give him grey hair…

Molly pushed away from the door, barely managing two steps away when there was a suspiciously cheerful knocking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyy communication!  
> Lightly touching on the issues before the awkward made them need to take a break!


	69. Chapter 69

There was blood on his hands. Red, sticky, quickly drying blood under his nails.

“Dammit… you’re angry with _me_ , leave them _out_ of it…” Fjord whispered furiously, eyes closed tightly.

**Return**

_Darkness and the deep ocean, salt water filling his lungs._

“I told you, I will, soon.”

**Punish**

_His hands around an unresisting neck, nail digging into flesh, blood welling as the human struggled in vain to draw breath._

Fjord growled lowly, standing up. “Stop it! Shut up! Shut UP!” He shouted at nothing, summoning his falchion in a splash of sea water.

**RETURN**

Fjord threw the blade away from him, backing away until his back hit the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. He didn’t know what to do, how to deal with that loss of control. He hadn’t realized it had gotten that bad. Yes, he heard Uk’otoa during the day now, his patron no longer just haunting his dreams. Yes, it was difficult to tell if it was his own thoughts and feelings or if it were Uk’otoa. But this?

If Caleb had just stayed away, not come and asked to talk. How many times had they told him, that's not the way they did things! Why had Caleb- No. No, it wasn't the wizard’s fault, but _why_ had he even… Fjord buried his face in his hands, a feeling of self loathing washing over him. How had he even- What had he done or said that made Caleb think that was the right thing to do? There was no way Caleb wanted that; he'd been shaking, pale... _ **disobedient, weak, vulnerable**_. 

"Shut up..." Fjord growled lowly, pressing the heels of his hand into his eyes. 

Fjord knew he’d been a little… short tempered lately, but he didn’t think it was that bad… or that Caleb would interpret it that way. He dropped his hands looking up at the discarded blade, the glint of golden orange at the hilt.

He closed his eyes with a low sigh as he heard a knock at the door. He couldn’t bring himself to call out, too tired and exhausted. After a long moment, the door opened anyway, Caduceus poking his head in. “Fjord? You all-right?”

The Firbolg entered cautiously, surveying the room briefly, the falchion laying on the floor, before his gaze landed on the warlock. “Fjord?”

“I have to go back.” Fjord stated simply, opening his eyes to stare blankly at the floor.

“What are you talking about?” Caduceus asked, uneasy with the bland tone, the far off look in Fjord’s eyes.

“I can’t stay here. I have to go back.” Fjord repeated, slowly looking at the cleric. “Cad, I could have killed him. I… I think I was going to…”

“That wasn’t you-“

“It might as well have been!” Fjord argued, turning his gaze onto Caduceus. “I can’t- If he hadn’t messaged you when I told him- fuck, I had to _tell_ him. He wasn’t even- if you’d come even a couple minutes later…. Dammit… I can feel it, remember it, he wasn’t breathing, wasn’t fighting. I could have _killed_ him. I can’t- I don’t think I can trust myself around him.”

“What happened?” Caduceus asked, moving to join Fjord seated on the floor.

Fjord let out a long breath, forcing the tension from his body. “I came back here, tried meditating like you showed me. I know it’s been a while, but with all that’s- I know something is _wrong_ but I just... Anyway… it wasn’t helping, just made it worse, so I gave up and then after a while Caleb shows up, wants to talk to me. Then he starts apologizing for… I don’t even know what, but I turn around and he’s on his knees, and… it was like-“ Fjord paused, leaning his head back against the wall. “It was like how it felt in the heat of battle, the rush of power, of being in control. I had to stop myself, told him to message you, and then… then it was like I was back in the ocean, Uk’otoa talking to me, and he was _not_ happy. But then you were pulling me off Caleb, and now it’s like I see bits of that, of what I did…”

“Has he ever done that before?”

“No, but I’ve never ignored him for so long either. During the war, all the fighting, it was… enough. But now…” Fjord admitted.

“The Wildmother-“

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the _Empire_ now.” Fjord told him, rolling his shoulders as he let out a slow breath. “We’re not exactly going to find a temple to Melora anywhere around here. She’s not exactly legal here. And I’m pretty sure I’ve burned that bridge anyway.”

“She won’t turn you away.” Caduceus assured him, calm as ever despite the rising tension in Fjord.

“I’m sure she can’t _wait_ to have me come crawling begging for help after Nicodranas.” Fjord hissed sharply.

“That’s not what she would want.” Caduceus denied, shaking his head. They were silent for a moment, Caduceus reaching up to scratch his chin in contemplation. “You know… you and Caleb are a lot alike in that regard.”

“Do tell…” Fjord grumbled.

“Well, you just assumed The Wildmother would be like this Uk’otoa, make you come begging for help or forgiveness or what not. Caleb kinda does the same thing with us. Seems to try and follow the same rules he had with that Trent fellow. The two aren’t really comparable.” Caduceus explained.

“What, so I’m just broken?” Fjord snorted. “Too blind to see the obvious difference between the two.”

“No. And neither is Caleb by the way. But people tend to hold on to what is familiar, what they are used to.” Caduceus explained easily. “Uk’otoa pulled you out of the ocean, gave you your abilities, and you’ve followed his orders ever since. Until recently.”

“And Caleb followed Trent’s orders, all the way up until recently. Yeah, I get the comparison.” Fjord sighed. It made a sort of sense, even if he didn’t completely agree. “Still, the point remains. It’s probably safer for everyone if I go back to Nicodranas. I don’t… want this to happen again. Especially if we get into it with Trent. There’s no telling how that will go; and I can’t risk turning against all of you.”

“And your answer to that is to go out to sea alone?”

“Well what would _you_ suggest then?” Fjord griped, throwing a short glare at him.

“As far as I can tell, Caleb seems to be the one at risk. Why don’t you just avoid him, explain things to everyone, and once things are settled here, all of us can help you deal with this Uk’otoa.” Caduceus suggested.

“You want to ‘deal’ with a Leviathan trapped under the Lucidian Ocean?” Fjord snorted.

“From what you’ve told me, you had only broken half the seals. Not enough to release it, but apparently enough it's reach extents far enough to influence your actions. Maybe we can find a way to reseal what you’ve opened.” Caduceus reasoned.

Fjord let out a long sigh, hanging his head. If it pulled some of the hooks his patron had in him, it was worth looking in to. Not that he was under any impression it would be easy, or without consequences. “It’s worth a try.”

~~~

Jester sat in her room alone, drawing and half heartedly humming to herself. Even with the lilting melody, not nearly as pretty as her momma could sing it, the room was still too quiet. Nott had left a while ago with the finished map, both of them very pleased with how it had turned out. Jester had tried sleeping for a while, but as nice as this place was… it wasn’t home. And she was feeling homesick, and it was really hard being alone right now.

Drawing wasn’t taking her mind off of things, it was actually making it worse because the picture of a fat, ugly, oily and halfway decapitated Trent Ikithon only reminded her of the reasons she didn’t want to be alone.

She really really hoped they would get to do something about him soon, especially after what happened the day before. Caleb had been really upset that morning, and kinda sad all day. He’d been doing so much better before they’d arrived in Rexxentrum, even with all that had happened in Zadash, and Jester was not at all happy about how _unhappy_ the wizard was right now.

Part of her thought about drawing a much more fun, and not at all connected to troubles and stress, mural on one of the walls, but she hadn’t made up her mind yet. She didn’t think Caleb would be mad if she messed up one of his rooms, he never got mad about _anything_ , or even a little upset. Except knowing that took the fun out of it and made her just even more sad.

Not that she wanted to make him _mad_ really… just she wished he would be okay with joking around like Beau did sometimes. Or even Fjord, when he wasn’t all brooding like he’d been recently. Even Molly wasn’t as cheerful as normal.

Jester let out a sigh, pushing away from the fancy desk. Caleb really thought of everything to make them happy with these rooms… She wondered what his looked like, what made him happy?.

Maybe just one little picture wouldn’t hurt.

Jester grabbed her paints, then lay on her stomach in the center of the room. Kicking her feet lazily, her tail flicking still in silent tension, she began to paint the symbol of the traveler on the floor. It was going to be grand design, not too big, but intricate and mysterious. She talked as she worked, speaking to the Traveler, even if she couldn’t see him right now. He was there and listening, she could feel it.

Jester told him all about the shopping they’d done, the different pranks she’d pulled while out, even if they were only little ones like rearranging stuff in shops and confusing the town criers. She had meant to do more, but she had gotten distracted by worrying about Caleb and the others.

The design on the floor was nearly finished when the hem of a green cloak fluttered, a hand reaching out to join her in drawing the swirling pattern. She smiled to herself, glancing up to see the hooded figure of the Traveler.

“I just wish there was a way he wouldn’t be so nervous, you know?” Jester said, tone a little sad. She’d talked to the Traveler about Caleb before, but he’d never been _there_ there when she’d asked before. “I just know that when he gets to know us better, he’ll realize we are all really nice.”

“Well, you’ll hardly get to know him, or he you, with all of you hiding away in this place, now will you?” The Traveler chuckled, adding a flourishing loop at the center of the design, completing it.  
Jester sat up, thinking for a moment as she looked at the finished product. A slow idea formed, and she nodded, grinning. “Ooooh, I know I know! Oh, Traveler, you have the _best_ ideas!”

“I do, don’t I?” The Traveler laughed, shooing Jester along as the cleric jumped to her feet. “Good luck.”

~~

Jester paused outside of her room to get the attention of one of the mansion’s ethereal servants, asking the ghostly human to ‘please go find Beau and bring her to where ever Caleb was, and also to show her how to find Caleb because she didn’t know where his room was’. Jester was pretty sure Caleb was getting along better with Beau, and wasn’t quite as scared of her as he used to be, but sometimes he was still nervous.

And even if Caleb didn’t want to hang out with them, Jester still didn’t want to be on her own, so she’d just follow Beau back to her room and have a sleepover there. The mansion rooms were extra big, so it’s not like it wouldn’t be comfortable no matter where everyone ended up.

Jester’s thoughts and plans entertained her while she followed the mansion servant, the creature leading her down a hallway she recognized. Up ahead, a little way’s past Molly’s doorway, was Caleb. He was facing away from her, making his way down the hall presumably from Molly’s room to his own.

Stifling a giggle, Jester skipped quickly ahead to catch up to him.

“Ooooohhhhh, were you in Molly’s room?” Jester teased over his shoulder, waggling her eyebrows at him. “What were you two doing?”

Caleb stopped, of course, turning around to face her. It wasn’t so much a turn as it was short jerk away, his expression a nervous anxiety as he backed away a step before freezing. Jester could almost see him swallow the fear, hiding it as best he could beneath a polite expression. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d snuck up on him, or if it was what she’d said, but Jester was starting to regret both.

“Ah, n-nothing. We were, ah, speaking and-“

“Oh, no no, Caleb, I was just joking, I didn’t mean to scare you!” Jester assured him, grin fading into concern. “I’m really really sorry. I actually wanted to talk to you, and ask Molly something too, so it’s actually a _good_ thing you’re here.”

“What, ah, what did you w-want to talk about?” Cabel asked, sounding very nervous though some of the tension left his form.

“Well.” Jester began, closing the distance between them to loop her arm around his, turning them and heading towards Molly’s room. She glanced over at Caleb, knocking cheerfully on the door as she spoke. “I was talking to the Traveler and he had a really wonderful idea- Oh, hey Molly!”

Molly opened the door, leaning against the doorframe and glancing between the two of them with an amused, if tired, smile. “Jester, what a pleasant surprise. And I see you caught Caleb while he made his grand escape.” He looked over at Caleb with a smile, adding quickly. “I’m joking of course, you go where you want when you want, okay?”

“J-ja…” Caleb agreed, tone colored in confusion.

“So, what’s up?” Molly asked, turning his attention to Jester.


	70. Chapter 70

Jester grinned at Molly, inching forward a bit. “I wanted to talk to you, both of you, and Beau too when she shows up, can we come in for a little while? I promise it’s nothing bad, okay?” Jester directed the last part toward Caleb, but even though he stammered out an agreement, she didn’t believe he was completely reassured.

Molly nodded agreeably and moved aside to let them in. Jester carefully tugged an unresisting Caleb gently along beside her into Molly’s room and shooing him over to have a seat in one of the big comfy looking chairs. She felt a little guilty at the confusion and anxiety radiating from the wizard, but really it was for the best, Jester was very hopeful her plan would help. Though it might have started off better if she hadn’t snuck up and startled him…

Nervous or not, Caleb sat down, even if he was stiff and tense, so Jester hoped that meant he was okay sticking around. At least to hear her out, then she might definitely have to let him know it was okay if he didn’t like the idea. Molly did tell him he could go wherever he wanted after all, so that had probably helped. For his part, Molly sauntered his way over to his bed, having to shake his head and wave Caleb back down when the wizard started to get up for Molly to have the chair.

Jester had to suppress a sigh, that was exactly the sort of thing she had been telling the Traveler about. Caleb was way too nervous around them still. Once Molly was all settled and both of their attention had turned to her again, she cheerfully explained.

“The Traveler had this _wonderful_ idea you guys, cuz he is so smart you know! Because I know Caleb, you’re still sometimes kinda nervous about us, and that’s okay you know, because you don’t really know us all that well.”

Jester paused, waving her hands as she tried to find a way to explain what she meant that wouldn’t hurt Caleb’s feeling or embarrass him. Though he was already flushing red, so she was zero for two so far. “It’s totally okay, we all had to get used to each other too when we met, we didn’t just automatically be all comfortable around each other.”

“Except for you.” Molly chuckled with a smirk toward Jester. He twisted around on the bed so he could lay down, tilting his head to look over at Caleb.” I swear, she never meets a stranger. Not an awkward bone in her body.”

“Okay, well maybe, but Nott and Beau didn’t get along at first, there was this whole thing with a gun that Nott stole, and a race up a tree, and then what happened was…”

Caleb was not at all sure what was going on. Jester had launched into a story about Nott and Beauregard, which Caleb was unsure if either of those two would want him to hear because so far it wasn’t a flattering story for either.

However, Jester was apparently cheerful and had an ‘idea’ that involved him. And perhaps Molly, considering they were in his room. Caleb tried not to be too worried, Molly had told him more than once he did not wish to harm him.

Caleb was then fairly certain that whatever Jester’s idea, it would probably not be detrimental to himself. Probably. He wasn’t entirely familiar with the Traveler beyond what Jester had spoken; though he gleaned the god was prone to tricks (or at least greatly approved of the ones Jester played on others).

“What… ah, w-what is this, ah… idea you mentioned?” Caleb ventured to ask once she had finished explaining, unable to keep himself from looking warily over at Molly a moment after the words left him. Molly just smiled at him, tail flicking lazily, and Caleb tried to let that calm the anxiety swirling in his chest.

“Oh, right! Well, I just was thinking, maybe, we could all hang out together and share a room like we all normally do when we’re out traveling on a job and stuff.” Jester explained. “Like a sleepover. Because it’s just been one thing after another and we haven’t had many opportunities to talk and get to know each other.”

“I dunno Jester, I think you pretty much told him your life story on day one.”

The three of them looked toward the door at Beau’s comment as she entered, the monk making herself at home and crossing the room and casually throwing herself on the bed. Molly scooted out of the way as she sprawled on her back. “That ghost guy said you wanted me, what’s up?”

“Sleepover.” Molly snorted, nudging her ribs with a foot.

“Sweet. I’m in.” Beau agreed easily, sitting up and leaning forward toward Jester. “Just us, or we inviting everyone else too?”

Molly let out a sigh as Jester re-explained her plan to Beau, though he couldn’t help but smile in amusement. At least she mentioned not wanting to pile on everyone, so that was considerate. Still, he didn’t want Jester getting carried away. Caleb didn’t look terrified, but he was still stiff and perched precariously at the edge of the seat Jester had ushered him into. Molly scooted further from Beau to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning toward Caleb to speak quietly to him. “You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to.”

“I…it- it is okay… What- ah, am- am I supposed to, ah…” Caleb stammered, eyes nervously following the discussion between Beauregard and Jester.

“Times like these, I just play along.” Molly advised, smile wavering as he could all but see the apprehension radiating from the wizard. “But you really don’t have to.”

“N-no, I would… ah, I- I d-don’t like, ah-“

Molly made himself be patient, waiting for Caleb to finish speaking, because the mage had that look on his face like he expected to be backhanded for having the audacity to have _feelings_ , much less express them.

“If- if it is, ah, okay, I- I would like to stay.” Caleb said softly.

“I don’t like being alone either.” Jester interrupted, earning an unhappy frown from Molly when her words made the wizard flinch. “I mean this place is pretty awesome, but it’s not ‘home’ you know, and it can get a little lonely all by yourself in a big giant room.”

“Speaking of which, are we bunking down here?” Beau interrupted.

“Oh, I guess we’ll stay here if it’s okay with Molly. The room is big enough I guess.” Jester suggested with a shrug.

Beau scoffed. “This place is larger than my room, is there another that’s bigger?”

“Fjord’s.”

All eyes turned to Caleb at the unexpected answer.

“Wait, why does Fjord get a bigger room?” Beauregard asked, making a confused face. “I mean, I get Molly, but…”

Jester gave Beau confused look. “Why would Molly automatically get a bigger room?”

“Ah…I- ah…” Caleb stammered, glancing over reflexively at Molly.

Molly was flushed a darker violet, eyes narrowing at Beauregard. “I don’t have a bigger room, not that it matters, and there’s no reason at all.”

“It’s beca-“ Beau started, smirking at Molly.

“Maybe it’s because Fjord is the unofficial leader and I’m second in command, how about that?” Molly interrupted quickly.

“Oh, please as if anyone would believe that.” Jester scoffed.

Molly ignored her, trying to change the subject and just a bit guiltily shifted the attention back toward Caleb as he looked toward the mage. “Seriously, if it’s a hierarchy thing, then like we talked about, it’s not something we do.”

“I… I had…” Caleb looked back over to Beauregard, words coming out thick with Zemnian accent as he tried to get his thoughts in order. Tried to figure out what offense he’d given and how to correct it. “I- I am sorry, I… I will correct the f-failure when I n-next caste the spell. It- it will not happen again.”

“Caleb, did you design the rooms based on how important you think we are?” Beau asked, an odd tone to her voice.

That… that did not sound good. Any answer he gave would end _badly_ for him. She was, in a way, correct, as was Molly’s guess. On some level he had designed the rooms to cater to each individual, but the mansion had originally been designed with the hierarchal type nature that he was accustomed to dealing with, which Molly had told him did not apply to the Mighty Nine. He had not had thought to change this layout.

“You _did_ , didn’t you?” Beau stated, breaking into a wide grin and laughing. “Oh, this is perfect!”

Caleb pulled back, thrown off by Beauregard’s apparent delight at the prospect. He’d expected anger, annoyance, not… amusement?

“Wanna share with the class, Beau?” Molly asked dryly.

“Think about it! This is great! It’ll be fun! Like an outside perspective to finally be like, yeah this is the best person in the group at first glance!” Beau laughed, shaking her head. She glanced over at Caleb, waving a hand dismissively. “I mean, yeah, what Molly said, we don’t have a chain of command really and you can obviously make this place how ever the fuck you want, but you gotta admit. It is kinda funny.”

“Seriously Beau? That’s what you got out of this?” Jester huffed, crossing her arms.

“What? You want me to focus on the obvious and make things even more uncomfortable? Figured you’d appreciate-“

“I’m not going to appreciate you making fun of him _Beau_!” Jester interrupted, frowning at the monk.

“I’m not making fun of anyone, I’m trying to lighten the mood!” Beau argued.

“Please… it, it is my fault, please do not fight. I am- am very sorry.” Caleb interrupted, voice soft and near breathless but still enough to stop the two of them and turn their focus. He stood from the chair, taking step nervously toward them, dropping his gaze and folding his arms behind him.

“Caleb. You are _very_ sweet, but it is _not_ your fault that BEAU is being a dick… _again_.” Jester said, the sentence starting off sweet but turning into pure sass as she turned her attention back to the monk.

“I am not!” Beau snapped toward Jester, trying to even her tone as she addressed the wizard. “Caleb, it’s not- You don’t- Aaaahgg, Molly, will you do something?” Beau gave up trying to either defend herself or reassure Caleb, instead looking to Molly who was already shifting to stand beside Caleb.

“They do this all the time.” Molly assured Caleb, reaching out to tug the wizard’s arms back to his sides. It seemed to help at least a little, breaking him from whatever frame of mind Trent had drummed into him to basically stand defenseless for whatever they might want to do.

“No _all_ the time…” Jester complained before sighing. “But really he is right, it’s fine. It’s just like that time I drew that picture on her wall and you made me invisible, and she was chasing me. It’s all part of being friends, you know.” Jester added, nodding.

“Some people do activities together, these two bicker and pull pranks.” Molly chuckled.

“Ah, I…I ah, w-what… ah…” Caleb stammered, face flushing red as he carefully avoided their gazes. He had obviously misread the interaction, should not have interrupted them. “I- I am- am sorry, I should not-“

“It’s fine, Caleb, don’t worry about it.” Beau interrupted, tossing an annoyed look at Jester. “All was saying is it’d be pretty interesting to see who he likes more based on how the rooms were made.”

“Oh… Oh! Caleb, do you have a favorite?” Jester squeaked.

It was such an abrupt change of pace that it left Caleb reeling and trying to keep up, anxious fear turning into complete confusion.

“I… it is- With… with this- this spell, ah, the design is… most is not-“ Caleb stumbled over trying to explain the casting of a spell that was first purposeful design, then mostly intuitive on consecutive castings. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push away the anxiety and explain properly before they either took offense or became impatient with his ineptitude.

“When I first learned this spell, it- it was designed with… with Ikithon’s preferences. Beyond the standard base that all such arcane mansions resemble, that is the… underlaying design of these rooms. Any, ah, modifications are limited to the… the subtle changes that can be made in the… ah, the… arcane web that makes up the spell when it is performed. I- I can redesign these rooms however you wish, alter the base before casting the spell rather than during, I have… I have not- I am sorry to have failed to do so before.”

“Oh, no no, it’s okay Caleb, really.” Jester assured.

“See, not about favorites at all, it’s just how the thing’s made.” Molly summed up, shifting his weight as he crossed his arms, tail flicking behind betraying his own nervous tension. He glanced over at Caleb, smiling though his expression was somewhat worried. “It’s really fine though. You don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to. This place is great as is, you did fine.”

“T-thank you, Molly.” Caleb said, barely meeting the Tiefling’s gaze before looking back at the floor. He hesitated for a moment before looking up carefully at Jester. “If… if a, ah, sleepover? A sleepover is what… what you wish, then, ah, your room might, ah, be best. I… remembered how you liked making that ah, pillow fort when you were young, you said. I… I, ah, included the materials in- in your room when casting the spell.”

“Aw, Caleb-“

“So, are we moving this party to Jester’s room them?” Beau interrupted before Jester could get too worked up. If the cleric started crying, she would too because, damn it, that really was just the most thoughtful thing. Jester had literally done the whole pillow fort thing _once_ and even with the turmoil the mage had been going through at the time, Caleb still remembered her saying she used to build them when she was younger and had included in in the mansion for her.

Molly shrugged. “It’s fine with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I wonder if I'm procrastinating the big boss battle....
> 
> Then I realize I don't care, M9 gotta get to know the wizard boi.


	71. Chapter 71

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get all your feelz ready my friends. Cuddle your cats if you got em.

As Caleb has indicated, Jester’s room was supplied with an above average number of blankets and pillows. In no time at all, she had taken all of them from their respective closets, forming three interconnected little bedrolls. They were large enough they could easily sit or sprawl out with room enough not to be close enough to touch anyone else, but situated so there wasn’t any empty floor between them.

“So Jes, what’s the plan for your ‘get to know each other’ plan? Play twenty questions?” Beau asked once they were all settled, smirking at the cleric.

“I don’t know, maybe we could ask a question, then Caleb could ask a question, if it starts a conversation, awesome, if not then we just keep asking questions until we get bored and fall asleep. I don’t know, this was the Traveler’s idea, okay, I’m just making it happen you guys, sheesh.” Jester retorted defensively.

Beau laughed at her, earning a wrinkled nose and Jester sticking out her tongue. “No, that’s actually a good idea. I mean the most I know about Caleb is he came from just outside Rexxentrum, is a damn good archmage, and he has a cat. Oh! I used to have an owl named Thaddeus, except he just up and fucked off one night, so there’s that…”

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about him…” Jester commented lightly.

“Ah, I…am sorry. Do… do you, ah, prefer… birds?” Caleb asked nervously, still unsure but willing to go along with what they wanted. It seemed like a safe question, since Beauregard had brought up the owl she must be alright with him asking about it.

“Meh.” Beau shrugged ambiguously. “Never really had a preference. Just he was a bad ass looking bird and Jester got this little weasel thing, so I figured why not.”

“You had a weasel?” Caleb asked, gaze turning towards Jester.

“Oh, yeah, it was a long time ago. But let me tell you, a war is no place for weasel, so Sprinkles went to live with Kiri up near Hupperdook.” Jester explained.

“Speaking of pets, you gonna invite Frumpkin to this party?” Beau asked Caleb.

“He is-“ Caleb stopped, hesitating. There was a difference between asking questions and correcting knowledge. He was unsure how Beauregard would react to the latter. Ikithon's correction to such was still too recent in his mind, though somehow Beauregard provoked less fear of discipline than Fjord had done.

“He’s not a pet.” Molly said when it became apparent Caleb wasn’t going to continue. “Frumpkin’s a familiar, Caleb explained the difference to Yasha a while ago.”

“Oh…” Beau said, brow knitting together in thought. “What’s the difference?”

Caleb paused, glancing between the three of them quickly before determining it was probably safe for Frumpkin. Jester and Molly definitely liked the cat, though he was not entirely sure of Beauregard. With a click of his fingers, Frumpkin appeared in his lap. Reflexively, he glanced over at Molly again, relieved to find an approving smile.

“Familiars are, ah, more intelligent than pets, and are different for- for each wizard. They, ah, exist on a different plane when they are not…here. He can… can assist me with spell, he can change form, can be re-summoned should an- ah, he is, ah, more than… than a pet.” Caleb explained, scrooching Frumpkin under the chin and smiling softly down at his friend.

“What do you mean, re-summoned?” Jester inquired, head tilting in curiosity.

Caleb's smile faded as he glanced up at her, quickly averting his gaze nervously, a flush creeping up his neck. “Oh, it is… It… he- he cannot be, ah, killed… not in the ah, permanent sense.”

“Okay, I get him being smarter, I get him changing shape, but how is he immortal?” Beau asked.

Caleb drew in a shaky breath, wrapping an arm protectively around Frumpkin. Already he regretted letting that slip. “If- if s-something were to- to harm him, he would v-vanish from this plane, back to where he came from. Until- until I was able to re-summon him.”

“That’s good though, right?” Jester said questioningly. “Because he can always come back?”

“If… if am allo- ah, if I h-have the materials, yes.” Caleb agreed.

“What materials do you need?” Molly asked.

Caleb avoided looking over at the blood hunter, the weight of the incense and charcoal he’d purchased without Molly’s knowledge sitting heavily in his gut. His accent was thicker as he spoken, swallowing back the Zemnian words and focusing on speaking common. “About t-ten gold worth of incense and some charcoal…”

“Okay… why don’t you get some of that stuff tomorrow? It's always good to have extra, even if you don't need it right now." Beau suggested, glancing over at Jester. "If everyone else is cool with it, it’ll be our ‘arriving in Rexxetrum’ shopping trip.”

Jester’s face lit up with excitement at the mention of shopping, already nodding eagerly.

“We’re not saying you have to change him.” Molly added quickly.

“What?” Beau frowned, looking over at Molly before turning back to Caleb. “Yeah, keep him as a cat, or whatever you want. Frumpkin is your ‘familiar’, and he is kinda cute and all. I guess.”

“I- I do not… t-thank you Beauregard, I… ah, do not have the, ah, required…funds.” Caleb admitted nervously, glancing worriedly at Jester. She had given him more than enough in the coin purse she had gifted to him. He had spent all of it, and then some, purchasing materials in Zadash. It had seemed appropriate at the time, but he now worried that she might disapprove of such use of the gold he had been given.

“Oh, right…” Beau hummed, leaning her head back in thought. “Guess we haven’t actually done any jobs for you to get some cash… It’s what, you said ten gold? Promise you won’t burn the incense shit near my room, and I’ll get it for you.”

Caleb’s eyes widened, shocked at how verdamnt _easy_ that had been. The price Trent would have extracted for that ten gold…

“Oh, ah, y-yes of course, thank you, Beauregard. I- I can repa-“

“Don’t worry about it. We’re friends, no big deal.”

“We are friends?” Caleb asked in surprised, wincing at the question. At best he probably sounded vaguely insulting, at worst the question would outright offend, and he would have any such consideration of the offer of friendship revoked.

Still, he could not help but hope. He had imagined Beauregard’s feeling towards him were more along the lines of neutral tolerance. Her abrasive tendencies had become less… aggressive… since they had first met, but he’d had little indication she held any fondness for him.

That she would be so accepting, regarded him as a friend… it was so much _safer_.

“Of course. I don’t keep you around just to use you for your fancy spells.” Beau snorted, pausing at a near growl from Molly

“Phrasing, Beau…” Molly warned.

Beau frowned at him, retorting easily with a slight nod and a pointed glance towards Caleb, who was looking down and focusing on breathing evenly. “Tone, Molly.”

They semi glared at each other for a long moment before apparently coming to some silent agreement, both of them letting go of the tension at the same time. Caleb glanced between them, unsure what exactly that was about, but sure it was likely his fault regardless.

“Way to play it cool you guys…” Jester snorted, reaching behind her head and throwing one of the pillows at Beau (who had the audacity to effortlessly catch it). “Caleb, of course we are your friends. Don’t mind them, okay?”

“Nei- ah, n-no, it… it is alright. I… ah, t-thank you, Beauregard, I am honored you would view me as such.” Caleb expressed nervously, anxious to show appropriate appreciation and unsure if that response was even correct.

“See, he’s honored.” Beau told Jester smugly.

Molly snorted, shaking his head. “He obviously got the short end of that deal.” The Tiefling teased, laughing as the monk flipped him the bird.

“If you didn't know we were friends, what _did_ you think?” Jester questioned.

“I… am a, ah, am here due to a- a contract agreement. For the continued peace between Xhorhas and the… the Empire. Given that- ah, I… I had hoped for- for tolerant acceptance of my presence.” Caleb admitted haltingly.

That tolerance was something he’d thought would be hard earned and entirely dependent on his abilities, how well he followed their orders, and how quickly he learned their preferences. Yet while most of them seemed impressed, or at least satisfied, with his capabilities, none save Fjord seemed concerned with his obedience. It didn’t fit into how he had been taught, yet their group had thrived and come to some prominence with this way of operating. It was a… gentler approach, but they were not weak because of it.

“That might have been why you joined us, Caleb. But we all like you, okay? We don’t just tolerate your existence, you’re really nice.” Jester explained, interrupting his musings.

Caleb nodded automatically in agreement, a slight flush coloring his face.

“Not to be offensive, I mean you seemed to have had a pretty shitty childhood and growing up thanks to the Assembly, but have you ever even had friends before?” Beau asked bluntly, though she made some effort not to be too abrasive.

Nonetheless, the light pink hue turned into a deeper flush on the wizard’s face as Jester hissed out an indignant “Beauuuu” toward the monk. Beauregard shrugged, giving Jester a look, but was otherwise unrepentant.

Caleb answered as Beauregard returned her attention to him. Jester may have objected to the question, but he rather preferred her to be upset with him than Beauregard. The monk may claim him as a friend, but her temper was still nothing to play with.

“A few, yes. Frumpkin, of course.” Caleb half lifted the cat in example before holding him close once more. “Ah, Eodwulf, once. Perhaps still… I… I am uncertain of him. Yussa I count as a friend.”

“Why are you uncertain of Eodwulf?” Jester asked when it became clear that was the end of Caleb’s list.

“Didn’t he like… attack us at Gandre?” Beau reminded him, a puzzled expression on her face. “I’d think that would make things pretty clear.”

“He attacked us, not Caleb.” Jester pointed out. “All he did was talk to Caleb.”

“Yussa’s a good friend though.” Molly interrupted, worried about the tension returning to Caleb and more than eager to change the subject.

“Maybe.” Beau shrugged. “He seemed pretty pissy when we were there though.”

“He… likely assumed Trent was with me.” Caleb answered the unspoken question warily, gaze flickering over to Molly. He could tell he’d barely managed to keep from cutting off whatever Molly had been about to say. The Tiefling did not look pleased, though his ire was directed at Beauregard and Caleb hoped he’d perhaps prevented an argument. “They did not… ah, get along.”

His attention was drawn back to Beauregard as she shifted in her seat, Caleb’s heart skipping and racing at the disgruntled expression on her face. He remembered how angry she had been that day and, though he did not think that same fury might return, he could not keep himself from nervously watching her. Beau’s training and background gave her the speed and agility to turn vague gestures into painful lessons with little warning.

“Oh! I wanted to ask you, if you don’t mind, but what agreement do the two of you have?” Jester asked curiously, pulling Caleb's attention from the monk.

Caleb shrank back in the little circle of blankets, shoulders tensing as his stomach twisted into knots of anxiety once more. While he was not quite as terrified about the prospect of explaining this as he had been when they had first met Yussa, he was still unsure what their reaction would be. He did not want to lose the only safe harbor he’d been so lucky to be granted.

“It… was an agreement for the use of Yussa’s teleportation circle.” Caleb stated, stalling in the hope that maybe they would be much like Ikithon and care less how and only that it was available. That he would not have to risk being forbidden to go back.

“We know that. But what kind of agreement…” Molly pressed, brow furrowing in concern. He hadn’t thought too much about it since they’d left Yussa’s tower. Just finding out how terrified Caleb was of them had been enough to drive out all thoughts of agreements. But if this was something Trent had set up, something that made Caleb nervous and uncomfortable, Molly was wondering if he should be second guessing his initial evaluation of the Nicodranian mage.

“It- It is nothing that would inconvenience you.” Caleb hurried to assure them, repeating the agreement as he had explained it to Ikithon so many years ago. “Yussa asks very little, a mere few hours of my time on occasion. In exchange, I and any with me will be granted passage through his tower so long as we pose no threat to him or Nicodranas.”

“Wait, what?!” Beau objected, her expression bordering on angry when Caleb dared glance up at her. “Trent just… fucking trades you out, no questions asked?”

“H-he was concerned only that I had succeeded in my task of acquiring access to the circle.” Caleb answered quickly, heart hammering in his chest as he dropped his gaze back down to Frumpkin in his lap. It had been one of the few times he had ever seen Ikithon pleased, though he was certain that none of them would be at all mollified by that fact.

“Caleb…” Molly began, voice so gentle it was almost terrifying to Caleb for the icy cold fury he heard barely concealed beneath it. “Could- you don’t have to, but could you explain what that agreement means? For you. What do you have to do in those ‘few hour of your time’?”

Caleb shuddered, trying and failing to keep from trembling at the near radiating anger simmering from both Molly and Beauregard. It was so reminiscent of Ikithon’s quiet fury, the thick tension in the air that promised discipline and correction. How? How had this admission caused such fury?

“I… I d-don’t-“ Caleb stammered, choking on the words and cringing at the display of blatant weakness. Master Ikithon would be _furious_ , would dig crystals under his skin, make him prove his usefulness, purify the weakness from himself as his own magic tore jagged cuts into his skin. Those three shards of green crystal sat heavy in his components bag, a silent threat. The promise of waiting alone for hours with the dread and disappointment hanging over his head. _Weakness is not tolerated/Useless failure_

Caleb waited for the expected orders, ears ranging with a hollow static. He barely felt Frumpkin’s rough tongue scraping against his hand, the only thing keeping him from completely letting go and retreating into his own mind. His limbs were too numb to move and send the cat away to safety, his heart clenching in fear for his vulnerable friend.

“Caleb, hey, Caleb, we’re not mad, okay, just… if he’s- you don’t have to keep up that agreement if you don’t want to, okay?” Master Ikithon was speaking, and Caleb forced himself to breath evenly, to _listen_. He could not ignore an order if one came, that was unforgiveable, incurred the worst punishments. Frumpkin was here, he could not risk-

No. No… That... this was _Molly_ , not Trent. Molly who made promises, who was always gentle. Beauregard who did not punish him for what was, by all accounts, betrayal. Jester who let him be weak without consequence or mocking.

When he looked up, Molly’s expression was worried, all hidden anger gone and it felt like Caleb could _breath_ again. It still felt dangerous to tell them, but he thought perhaps… Molly would not let him go if he thought Yussa was harming him. He’d been so angry when he had found out Trent had disciplined him. Perhaps… perhaps it was okay to explain.

He scratched Frumpkin’s head, letting his friend know he was back, was present once more.

“I… did nothing. He- he asked for nothing. Asks nothing.” Caleb told them, keeping his gaze on Frumpkin, the fey cat curling his whiskers in invitation. Caleb could almost pretend it was just the two of them, no judgement ~~_weakness is not tolerated_~~ or anger forthcoming. He could admit this weakness, explain how he had subverted the punishment and corrections Master Ikithon had meted out, if only to the non-judgment of his familiar. Even though it terrified him how the other three would view him afterward.

“I could- I could rest. Recover after an assignment or… or sometimes discipline, depending. He… he let me stay after… after Eodwulf’s death. And again, after Ma- T-t-trent’s correction for that failure.” Caleb continued to explain, hands shaking as he slowly stroked Frumpkin’s fur. “Few enough times I was allowed, or had the opportunity, to visit without M- w-without T-trent. But the agreement stood, no matter the length of time between.”

“Oh, thank god.” Molly breathed, relieved as he fell back onto his own pile of blankets.

Caleb looked up at Molly, unsure if he should trust the lack of outrage over what was proof of another deception. He had not outright lied to Ikithon, but he’d kept the truth from him. Had done the same with the Mighty Nine more than once now, yet both Molly and Beauregard held looks of relief instead of the more appropriate suspicion or anger. “You… ah, w-will you... allow the agreement to- to remain?”

Beauregard was the one to answer since Molly lay sprawled in his spot looking too wrung out to properly answer. “We’re not going to try and stop you from visiting your friend. Especially if that friend provides a safe place for you.”

“Yeah, and even if you feel like you need to get away from us, you should definitely have somewhere you feel safe.” Jester added, giving him a watery smile.

“Thank you.” Caleb breathed out, some of the tension draining from him. “I…ah, I am sorry to have… worried you?” He couldn’t help the near questioning tone, surprising himself at the realization that was what they had been. Worried.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad we don’t have to go kick his ass. I mean, we’ve got one old mage on the list, so why not add another…” Beau shrugged, lounging back. “But Yussa is cool, I guess. Knew I liked him.”

“Oh please, you don’t like anybody when you first meet them.” Molly scoffed, sitting up slightly and rejoining the conversation. His smile was a little tight, but he held it in place nevertheless.

“That’s not true, Molly.” Jester countered, throwing herself into the change of subject with a mischievous grin. “She liked Yasha when they first met.”

Beau turned a deep shade of red, narrowing her eyes at the cleric. Molly laughed, quickly joining Jester in poking good naturedly at the monk. “You’re right, she did!”

The last of the tension slowly unwound from Caleb now that their attention had shifted from him. He was still surprised at how easily they had accepted what had, to him, been a very dangerous secret. But… he supposed that since they, as Molly had many times said, wanted to help him… then they would not disapprove of Yussa’s doing much the same in the past.

He sat back, letting Frumpkin’s low rumbled purr calm him further as he listened to the three of them. He could recognize the teasing tone in Jester and Molly, the false bluster in Beau; it almost brought a smile to his face at times, the camaraderie between them. And they allowed him here, offered him friendship when he had done nothing to deserve it.

The stress of the day was catching up to Caleb; the spells cast, the discipline from Fjord, the subsequent healing, and then the talks with the others. Exhaustion weighed on him. He shifted in his little nest of blankets and pillows, getting more comfortable. None of the others seemed to notice, or if they did they did not mind. They were simply present, himself included in their circle. He let their voices wash over him, eyes closing and he barely registered when they quieted in response. Soon enough, sleep pulled him down, Frumpkin tucked safely under his chin.


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnificent Mansion has automatic lights now, it's a thing, just roll with it.

Molly dreamed of darkness, of an oppressive heat and the distant screams of torment. He dreamed of flying imps in golden armor, of hot metal and blood on his claws. There were dark lumps in the dim lit room around him, heaped flesh and cloth, red pools beneath them. He felt a sense of glee on the surface, though underneath was a terrified dread.

Jewelry across his horns jangled as he moved, thin chains of gold and silver clinking against the armor that adorned his form. It was strange, because he didn’t wear plated armor, never had. And his twin blades were missing, in their place a leather cat of nine tails whip. Slowly he sauntered around, motions feeling almost thick in the heated air. The forms on the ground didn’t move, though slowly clarified into the visage of his friends, his family, laying in broken heaps, eyes wide and staring blankly in the shadows.

Molly woke with a gasp, sitting up in the darkness of the room. The arcane lights were dim now, reminiscent of moonlight, and gave enough illumination he could easily see the three sleeping around him.

He stared at each of them for a long moment, letting the rise and fall of their breath reassure himself they were alive. Were okay. He closed his eyes in relieve, tension draining from him as the images from his dream faded into just another horrible memory.

He’d been having more and more of those dreams ever since Caleb’s banishment spell. It worried him. It worried Yasha, who had born the majority of dealing with the fallout that first night. Having someone around, multiple someone’s this time, definitely helped.

A low muttered plea caught his attention, Molly opening his eyes to focus on Caleb. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one having bad dreams tonight. The mage was curled into a tight ball, a stark difference to the relaxed not quite sprawl from when he’d fallen asleep.

“B-bitte…”

Molly’s heart clenched at the sound, at how Caleb flinched away from nothing even in his sleep. Frumpkin was awake already, the cat purring and butting his head against Caleb. The wizard didn’t seem to notice beyond flinching and tucking his head lower.

Molly inched his way over, glancing cautiously at Frumpkin in case the cat took exception to him getting too close to Caleb. He didn’t need Caleb waking up from whatever nightmare was scaring him only to be terrified for Frumpkin because Molly had gotten himself scratched.

“Caleb… Caleb, wake up.” Molly whispered, reluctant to touch him for more than just Frumpkin’s sake. He didn’t want to scare him. Unfortunately, quiet whispers didn’t seem to have any affect, nor did Frumpkin putting two paws on the wizard’s tense shoulder. Resigning himself to either being scratched and dealing with the fallout of that, or just the general fear leftover from whatever nightmare Caleb was dealing with, Molly shuffled forward touch Caleb’s shoulder. He shook the wizard gently, speaking softly once more. “Caleb, hey.”

Caleb jerked awake with a sharp intake of breath, scrambling away from the gentle touch before forcing himself to stop far too late. He closed his eyes, waiting for the disappointment, anger, disapproval… He had broken the rules, he deserved the discipline that followed. Instead of a blow, instead of a painful cantrip designed to put him in his place, he was met with Frumpkin’s soft head shoving its way in front of his face.

Caleb drew in a surprised breath, reaching over to pull Frumpkin close to his chest when Molly spoke.

“Hey, sorry. You okay?” You were talking in your sleep, didn’t sound happy…”

“Y-yes, Molly. I am sorry. I…. I did not mean to disturb you.” Caleb apologized softly, well aware of the others still sleeping. He had already woken Molly, he needed to take care not to wake the others. He kept his eyes down, half curling protectively over Frumpkin.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.” Molly answered gently.

After a moment, Caleb relaxed a little straightening somewhat to look up at Molly. The Tiefling gave him a crooked smile, worry marring the expression. Molly kept his voice down to a whisper the same as Caleb, also mindful of the others. “Bad dreams?”

Caleb felt a flush creeping up his neck as he looked down at Frumpkin, one hand shaking as he pet the cat’s head. The light was dim, but enough he could see easily enough as Frumpkin curled his whiskers at him. “Ja, ah, yes.”

Molly shifted slightly, sitting back more comfortably, though remaining within reach of Caleb. “If I’m honest, that’s why I’m up too. If you want to talk about it, I’m happy to listen. I’ve been told that helps.”

Caleb lifted Frumpkin up, letting the cat curl around his shoulders. The warmth around his neck was comforting, the slight purr, the damp nose in his ear a reassurance that Frumpkin was with him. Frumpkin was not worried, not about Molly, and that helped.

“I… I would not want to burden you. But- but what of you? If- if you would like to, ah, speak of your… bad dreams?” Caleb offered, looking away and trying not to cringe at the offer. He knew he had little right, should not even insinuate Molly had any desire or need to confide in _him_ of all people.

“How about this. I’ll tell you, if you tell me?” Molly offered, compromising. He didn’t want to back Caleb into a corner of talking if the wizard didn’t want to, and Molly wasn’t exactly thrilled with sharing either, but showing his own vulnerability might make Caleb a little more comfortable. Let him see that Molly was just a person too.

Molly stretched out on the blankets, so he wasn’t sitting up towering over Caleb. Even though the human was sitting up as well, Caleb somehow had a way of making himself so small…

Molly added onto his offer as Caleb hesitated to answer, giving him a way out if he needed. “Feel free to decline, no hard feelings. I really just want to help, so it’s whatever you think is best, okay? And if you agree, I’ll go first. So you know there’s no tricks.”

Caleb tensed at Molly’s words. “I- I did not mean to- to suggest you would-.”

“I know, it’s fine. I’m just offering.” Molly assured him.

Caleb nodded slowly, apparently considering the offer as he also shifted to lay back down. Frumpkin moved from Caleb’s shoulders onto his back as the mage lay on his front, the cat stretching out so his paws hung over one of Caleb’s shoulders. “Ja, I… would be agreeable to that.”

“Alright.” Molly smiled, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He folded one arm behind his head, the other laying across his chest as he spoke.

“Most of what I remember from the dream is being in the nine hells.” Molly began, only just managing to keep from saying ‘again’. He didn’t need Caleb feeling guilty. It was his own past, it wasn’t Caleb’s fault he was dreaming of something he feared were broken bits of memories mingled with a fear of losing those he cared about. “Everyone was dead, there was blood, and just… It helps though, being around people when I wake up. Just talking to you helps, proves that it wasn’t real.”

“I…am sorry, that is-“ Caleb began, though Molly quickly interrupted.

“No need to be sorry, it’s not your fault.” Molly stated, glad he hadn’t also added the part of the dream where the feeling of _enjoyment_ lingered. Instead, he waved a hand dismissively. “Through the fault of no one we can find, I don’t remember much about where I came from. I think I mentioned that once before? Anyway, it’s fine.”

“Ah, Jester has not… she was able to- to lift whatever blocked my memory.” Caleb stated, not quite able to ask the question.

Molly rolled onto his side to face Caleb, laying his head on his palm. “She tried, didn’t work. Whatever this is, it isn’t magic. At least not that they can tell. Nott thinks it’s a curse.”

“She had… had mentioned her own curse.”

Molly nodded, glad that Caleb had gotten to know some of them in the time he’d been with them. “I’ve learned to live with it. Don’t even mind. I am who I am right now.”

“That… that is a good philosophy.” Caleb agreed lightly.

Molly chuckled. “Thanks. Okay, your turn. If you want.”

“I…I was home again, that- that night, watching… watching them burn, unable to do anything. And then… and Ikithon was angry… but then it wasn’t him, it was Fjo-“ Caleb explained disjointedly, though Molly thought he understood what Caleb meant. And he assumed the mage was leaving out the painful details. And even though Caleb cut himself off, Molly knew exactly who had made a cameo in his fears tonight.

“I know Fjord was being an ass yesterday, but he usually is an okay guy.” Molly said, though at this point he wasn’t entirely sure why he was defending the warlock. He was still a little pissed at him and hearing Caleb was having nightmares featuring him in the same light as Ikithon didn’t exactly help.

Whatever the deal was, it was becoming a problem. Fjord had been sympathetic to Caleb’s situation on the way to Rexxentrum, had been just as outraged at how the guards treated him, shocked at how Caleb though he was their… their property. Molly sighed, muttering to himself. “We should really have a talk with him….”

“I… I spoke with Fjord earlier…” Caleb began hesitantly.

“You mentioned. You were with him when you messaged Caduceus.” Molly agreed lightly, head tilting in invitation for Caleb to continue as he turned his attention back to the mage. He was getting a bad feeling, knew by the poorly concealed fear in Caleb’s voice that there was more to it.

“I… F-fjord was… angry, upset. I… I needed to fix it, it was my fault he was- I thought- I was just trying…” Caleb began haltingly, fine tremors crossing his shoulders every few seconds.

Molly closed his eyes, stomach already sinking. Yeah, this was not going to end well, he could tell. His tone was quiet and apprehensive as he made himself ask. “What happened?”

“I… went to- to apologize. It was my fault, I should not have lied, or- or tried to hide what had… I deserved whatever correction he thought… I needed to show I could be useful, good. He ordered me to message Caduceus and I thought- but when Caduceus arrived he pulled Fjord away and Fjord _stopped_ instead of- but he was not- not pleased and… and I see now I have miscalculated, I am sorry, I didn’t-“

“Oh, gods, what… what did he do?” Molly asked, feeling more afraid for Caleb than angry right now. He’d get pissed later, but he knew any anger would be misinterpreted. What the hell had Fjord been thinking?!

In answer, Caleb tilted his head, baring his neck and gesturing with a shaking hand. “B-but Caduceus healed the damage, I w-was not h-hiding any injuries, I swear. I would not lie to you again, please-“

“Fuck, Caleb…” Molly interrupted, unable to stand Caleb begging for forgiveness for something that wasn’t his damn fault. He moved closer, reaching out to pull Caleb into a hug, as if a simple embrace could erase all the shit that had happened to the wizard during the time he should have been _safe_. But they kept fucking _hurting_ him.

Caleb went rigid in his arms, breath coming in short pants and Molly could almost feel the rapid racing of the human’s heart in his chest. “Bitte, please, I’m sorry, please don’t h-“

“I’m promise, I’m not going to hurt you, I just… I’m not mad at you.” Molly assured him. From behind the wizard, Frumpkin let out a quiet meow, having slid from the wizard's back when Molly pulled him into a hug.

“That- that’s never mat- It… it was my fault, I shou-“

“No, it wasn’t.” Molly stated evenly, thankful when Caleb slowly relaxed from the fearful tension. He could feel Frumpkin curled up behind Caleb's shoulders, the cat's fur brushing his own hand. “I can’t… I can’t explain whatever the hell is going on with Fjord, but the rest of us… No matter how pissed any of us get, we are not going to take it out on you. I mean, we might get a little snappish, but we aren’t going to hit you or anything.”

“He wou- I… I know you are- are not the same, and I am sorry, I cannot seem… to- to keep myself from… expecting the same.” Caleb explained breathlessly, shuddering against Molly’s solid gentleness.

“You were living under Trent’s rules for a long time. No one expects you to get over it or act like it never happened. It takes time, we get it. If you need space, or to have company, we’ll do what we can.”

“What are you guys doing awake.” Beau’s mumbled complaint interrupted them, her voice gravely with sleep as she rolled over to look blearily in their direction. “It’s gotta be… fucking… uh… what time is it?”

“Ah…dawn is- is roughly twenty minutes away.” Caleb answered automatically, Molly carefully releasing him and rolling back toward his own space.

“Fuck, that’s early, why are you awake?” Beau muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her hair.

“You guyyyyyys.” Jester complained, also waking though she only rolled over to look over at them. “What are you doing?”

As they began moving, the arcane lighting in the room began to brighten, apparently reacting to their wakefulness. Beauregard smothered a yawn behind one hand, stretching as she stood. Caleb rolled to sit upright, Frumpkin reclaiming his spot on Caleb's shoulders as he did so.

Jester grumbled, but sat up as well, Molly following suite and answering both Jester and Beau’s questions. “We were talking, obviously not as quietly as your precious ears could handle.”

“Sarcasm first thing in the morning. Great.” Beau grunted, twisting her torso as she shook off the last lingering stiffness.

“It’s not like you’d still be sleeping long.” Molly snorted, knowing just as well as Beau that the monk was usually the first one up in the mornings.

“While we’re all awake, we might as well go get some food.” Beau suggested. “If we get through exploring the tunnels and figuring out which Assembly dick lives at that one tower early enough, Jester will have time for that shopping trip.”

Jester perked up, though she still blinked sleepily.

“We can get the mansion servant people, whatever, to go wake the others.” Beau continued, moving over to the cleric and all but picking Jester up onto her feet. By the time she got the cleric standing, Molly and Caleb had already followed suit.

The monk nodded a little smugly at getting her way, heading out of the room to lead the way to the dining hall.


	73. Chapter 73

The four of them entered the dining hall, finding Fjord, Nott, and Caduceus already there, though Yasha was still absent. The Firbolg was sharing a pot of tea with the warlock, both of them situated on the far end of the room and it seemed they’d been there for some time. Molly was a little bit pleased that Fjord hadn’t gotten to sleep much, had apparently been awake for a while. Though he did feel bad for Caduceus.

Nott was sleeping in the dining hall, the surrounding bottles of wine under the table giving explanation for that. She sat up when Jester called out to her, squinting at the cleric. Jester took Caleb’s hand in hers, leading the wizard over as the mansion’s ethereal servants began bringing out food.

Beau pulled Molly to the side before he could follow, glancing quickly over the rest of the group as they set about getting their breakfasts. Jester had Caleb’s attention, chattering to the mage while carefully stacking his plate with food, Nott abandoning the empty bottles to help as well. Fjord and Caduceus were speaking quietly across the room, paying little attention to any of them.

“Molly, hey. I wanted to ask a favor.”

Molly’s lips curled into a fanged grin, eyes near sparkling with mischief. “A favor? This sounds fun. Do tell.”

Beau rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Look, I know you were going to come with me and Caleb to the Candles to check out the mages house, but I was hoping you could go with the others instead?”

The grin faded quickly from Molly’s expression, a frown taking its place. “Why?”

Beau snorted at the demanding tone. “Oh please, you know as well as I do I’ll throat punch the first person to so much as look at him sideways, so get the knot of your tail.” She huffed, glaring at him until he gave a half nod and leaned back before continuing. “I get that you talked to him about yesterday…”

“I did, but I’m getting there’s more. Go on.” Molly confirmed, crossing his arms.

“But I figure it can’t hurt to let him know he if he’s got a problem, even with one of us, someone will help him.” Beau reasoned, adding quickly. “I know you wouldn’t do anything, and I’m not going to make him think you _would_ , it’s just…” Beau shrugged awkwardly, shuffling in place as she put a hand on her hip and looked over at the mage in question.

Molly sighed lowly, tension leaking out of him. Beau had a point, and it was actually kind of sweet of her. Besides, after what happened with Fjord, he definitely agreed with her.

“He’s gonna want to know why I’m not going anymore.” Molly snorted at the surprised look she shot him. “I didn’t say he’d _ask_. But he’ll worry about it. It’s this whole… look, just make sure he knows no one is mad, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Beau agreed, still confused.

“What are you two dOiNg over there?!” Jester’s voice rang out, unnecessarily loud for the relatively short distance between them.

Molly and Beau both looked over to see the blue Tiefling standing with her hands on her hips, a mischievous grin on her face. Caleb was seated across from her, likely having been warned she would be shouting because his expression held a fond confusion with only a hint of worry as he glanced between the cleric and those she had called out to.

“Talking about you, of course.” Molly retorted with a grin, sauntering his way over, tail flicking to near trip Beau as she moved to follow him. The monk cursed but was nimble enough to keep on her feet and not step on him.

Molly slid into the seat next to Caleb, leaning over to nudge him with his shoulder in a reassuring greeting, though his attention was mainly on Jester.

Jester sat down, leaning forward and propping her chin on her palms. “Oh, you were talking about me? What were you saying? Were you talking about what an amazing healer I am and how you would be just lost without me?”

“Wouldn’t you know it, that is _exactly_ what we were saying about you.” Molly snickered, leaning forward in a mirror pose. “I was saying how you always have all the best healing spells, so free to give them out, and how you are _definitely_ prepared for whatever we find down in those tunnels under the palace.”

“Oh, believe me, I _definitely_ will be. I have all sorts of cool spells prepared.” Jester chuckled, sitting back and sliding Molly a plate of food.

“You… you are, ah, going with the others?” Caleb asked softly, tensing slightly as he glanced up at Molly.

“It’s better that way. We can meet up with the others in the tunnels after.” Beau spoke up in answer, grabbing the open seat to Jester’s left and snagging some bacon from the cleric’s plate. “We don’t want to draw attention to us checking out the Assembly, right? Because you told Trent we really only suspect the Cobalt Soul.”

“Is it even a good idea to go over there? If they see you, will Trent find out that Caleb lied to him?” Nott asked, leaning over from Caleb’s other side to look toward Beau.

“Maybe, but we kind of need to know who lives in that tower that the tunnel comes out next to.” Beau replied.

“If- if we are, ah, noticed…” Caleb spoke up nervously, keeping his eyes on his plate. “Ikithon did… he did instruct me to-to make sure any connection between the, ah, the Assembly and the Soul was either not found or was destroyed. It may not be too suspicious to be seen there, so long as… as we did not stay over long or scrutinize too thoroughly.”

“That’s perfect.” Molly said supportively, shifting a little closer to Caleb. It was clear the wizard was uncertain if his opinion and advice would be well received, but Molly was still proud of him for speaking up despite his reservations. “It’ll look like you’re doing what Iky said and we’ll find out the info we need.”

Caleb nodded, the tension easing from his shoulders and Molly hoped the explanation was enough to keep Caleb from worrying he’d done something wrong. He leaned forward, about to reassure Caleb that this was not him ignoring the mage or abandoning him as a punishment by going with the others, when Beau looked over behind him, waving her hand. “Yash, come on, I saved you some bacon.”

Molly glanced over to see Yasha had joined them in the dining hall and was making her way towards them, Fjord and Caduceus standing from their secluded seat to follow her over. Molly narrowed his eyes, having not at all forgotten about what Caleb had told him, and scooted close beside the mage.

Caleb drew in a short breath, looking over at Molly before following the Tiefling’s gaze to the three approaching. He met Fjord’s dark gaze for a brief moment before dropping his eyes back down to the table. Caleb leaned slightly against Molly, grateful for the blood hunter remaining beside him, thankful his admission to him this morning had not cause a fight right now.

“We need to talk.” Fjord began, letting out a long sigh as he sat down. He kept his distance from them, carefully avoiding looking in Caleb’s direction. Meeting the human’s frightened gaze just for that brief second a moment ago had been… it hadn’t been good, that was for sure.

Molly leaned forward, giving Fjord a narrow eyed look as he drawled. “Yes, we do. Have something to share with the rest of us?”

Fjord frowned at him, holding his gaze for a long moment before unconsciously glancing over at Caleb beside the lavender Tiefling. The wizard was studiously keeping his eyes on the plate of food in front of him, and Fjord guess that at some point, Molly had gotten the details on what happened. At least he wasn’t shouting and throwing punches this time. He knew it shouldn't bother him, that he should be glad that Caleb had told someone else what had happened. It wasn't like he wanted to hide it from them, as shameful as what he'd done was.... But he was feeling a very unwelcome sense of frustration, annoyance...

“Yes, actually.” Fjord stated, meeting the unspoken accusation head on and doing his best to ignore that growing anger. He tore his gaze away from Caleb, focusing on Molly's blood red eyes, the more _appropriate_ anger within them. “I don’t think it’s safe for me to be around all of you. I… I should go back to Nicodranas.”

There was a short outburst of unhappy exclamations, though Molly just frowned, brows furrowing in confusion. That certainly had not been what he’d expected the warlock to say. “That doesn’t explain anything, Fjord.”

Fjord sighed, one clawed finger tapping at the table in front of him. “I’ve been having…difficulty, with my patron. He wants me to return…” Fjord shook his head, taking a breath and continuing. “To go back to my original task, back to the sea. With the war, the fighting… it was enough to… I don’t know, tide him over or something, but it’s been months since our last real battle.”

“Weren’t you and Caduceus, with the Wildmother… Didn’t you have a whole thing going on?” Jester asked.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Fjord and Caduceus looked at each other at the opposing answers, Fjord sighing once more and leaning back. “I was trying to… I never really got a connection to the Wildmother, yeah I tried, but it was just... difficult. Meditating, talking to her, it was... like a wall... And then after Gandre…” Fjord shook his head. “I can’t explain it right, but I started having those dreams again. Being in the ocean, hearing him calling. Then it wasn’t just when I was dreaming, I could swear I’d hear him, and I can’t tell if it’s me or Uk’atoa.”

“And you want to go back out to sea all alone?” Jester asked, tone stressed. “That doesn’t sound very safe, or like a good idea at all.”

“Maybe, but it’s safer for all of you. No offense, Caleb, but you seem to be the focus of him wanting to get to me. I don’t want to hurt you and I’ve already… That’s never happened before, I just blacked out almost. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I, for one, don’t think it’s a good idea.” Caduceus stated evenly. “You don’t want to have to obey him, you’ve said as much.”

Caduceus paused as Fjord nodded agreement, then continued. “I spoke with the Wildmother and the main problem is some of the seals that hold Uk’atoa have been broken. Not enough to release him, but it gives him enough power to apparently extend his will into Fjord.”

“What, so you’re a puppet for some giant sea snake?” Beau asked.

Fjord shrugged, expression awkward as he tried to find some way to disagree with that summation. “I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly, but…”

“If we repair the broken seals, that should keep Uk’atoa from influencing Fjord. The Wildmother can help from there.” Caduceus concluded.

“The problem is that with this whole Trent issue, if it comes to a fight, I don’t want to risk turning on any of you.” Fjord added, leaning forward with his elbows braced on the table.

“But if your patron is as pissed as he sounds, it’s not any safer for you to go alone to Nicodranas and get on a boat.” Beau reasoned.

“And if you do go, what happens if he takes over you again?” Nott questioned. “Will he make you break the last seals, and then there’s a giant sea god thing sinking ships and wreaking havok?”

“I don’t know…” Fjord admitted.

“I don’t think freeing that thing is a good idea.” Yasha commented softly. “I do not think you should go.”

“We’ll only be here for another week, tops.” Beau stated, nodding in agreement with Yasha’s assessment. She wasn’t thrilled Fjord had done something to Caleb, wasn’t thrilled with this Uk’atoa focusing on the wizard at all; but she also didn’t like the idea of possibly letting Fjord just leave and maybe die at sea and none of them would know.

“We deal with Trent, this whole plot against the King, then we’ll go deal with the snake.” Beau suggested, glancing around at the others. “We all know there’s an issue, so we can all keep an eye on it.”

“Yes, it’s the part where you assume we can just ‘deal with’ a giant leviathan under the ocean that has me concerned.” Fjord commented.

“We can at least re-visit the seals you broke, see what can be done.” Caduceus stated evenly. “Simply weakening his power might be enough.”

“I like that plan _much_ better than you going out on your own.” Jester agreed.

“I can live with that plan.” Molly spoke up. So long as Fjord kept away from Caleb, and Caleb kept away from Fjord considering that had apparently promted the last issue, he was fine with Fjord staying. As irritated as he might be with the warlock, he didn't want him to leave, or gods forbid _die_. He just wanted the man to get his head out of his ass... which it seemed like he was at least _trying_ to do.

Molly looked over at the very silent wizard in question, lips pressing together unhappily. The rest of them had either nodded or spoken their own agreement, but Caleb had not. “Caleb? It’s okay if you don’t agree, we’ll figure something out.”

Caleb glanced up at him, gaze wandering swiftly around the others before he nodded once. “I am… okay.. with that.”

“You’re sure?” Fjord was the one to ask, worry in his tone. “I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t.”

“I- … yes. I am, ah, I am sure.” Caleb repeated. “In… in any case, Ikithon might be suspicious if- if you left. The King might take offense as well, it would… together, it would not, ah, it would not help the- the plan.”

“So Fjord stays.” Beau repeated for clarification, relaxing as everyone nodded in agreement, even Caleb. “Good. Back to today’s plan then. Caleb and I will head to the Candles, the rest of you were good to start over by the Soul, follow the path down the tunnel? Yasha can show you how to get there, me and Caleb will meet up with you from the other side.”

“Wait, I thought Molly was going with you?” Fjord questioned.

“We don’t want to draw too much attention looking into the Assembly, since Caleb told Ikithon we only suspect the Cobalt Soul.” Beau explained simply.

“If- if we are noticed it… ah, it will be easy to reason why… why Beauregard would want to find some connection to the Assembly.” Caleb added softly.

“We won’t take long, just a short loop around the towers in the area to get a lay of who lives where.” Beau continued, giving an approving nod of thanks to Caleb. “That side of the tunnel doesn’t take as long getting to the break in the path, so we should be able to meet up at the same time.”


	74. Chapter 74

Caleb dismissed the mansion once they were all back on the streets, the air around them chilly in the early morning hours. He clicked Frumpkin safely away before turning to face the rest of the group, eyes skimming over them nervously as he hesitantly offered. “Would… should I, ah, caste the disguise spell?”

“Actually, I was thinking maybe not.” Beau stated. “Seems like a waste of a spell. If we run into anyone in those tunnels, their gonna know who we are. And after this we’re going to ‘arrive’ in Rexxentrum, so seems like a waste for Caleb to caste it just for us to walk across town.”

“I… I do not mind.” Caleb said softly.

“Maybe, but if it comes to a fight, your gonna want to have all the strength you can for other things.” Beau reasoned.

“Yes-.” Caleb started to agree but stopped, dropping his gaze as Fjord added his opinion to the conversation.

“Jester, Nott, and myself can all change our appearances.” Fjord stated, glancing at the other two. “And Caduceus can a little. Yasha and Molly are the most noticeable, but if they draw attention, the rest of us can make it over to the Cobalt Soul without much notice.”

“Fine by me.” Molly shrugged, grinning over at Yasha. “I’m sure we can manage to figure out if someone is watching.”

“Oh! I could make myself invisible and if someone is watching us, I could watch _them_.” Nott offered excitedly.

“Wonderful!” Molly agreed, then glanced over at Beau. “What about you though? You’ll stick out worse than me over on the Assembly part of town.”

“Easy.” Beau scoffed, taking the cobalt blue coat and flipping it inside out to show a more neutral color. “See? Insta disguise. And Caleb can just… uh…”

“There would be little reason for any to scrutinize my presence in that area.” Caleb offered. “But I can disguise myself if you wish. The spell is not as… as taxing as the one to disguise the entire group.”

“Alright, that works. We’ll both try and keep a low profile, meet the rest of you in… say four hours? That’ll give us both groups enough time to find the entrance and get through the tunnel to where the second path broke off.” Beau suggested.

The rest of them nodded agreement, those that could change their appearance easily doing so. Yasha and Molly led the way, the group soon breaking off into two as they reached the main road. Caleb and Beau took the wide main road up toward the Shimmer Ward and the Assembly while the others broke off the longer way around towards the Tangles and the Cobalt Soul.

Beauregard and Caleb walked in silence, the monk keeping an eye on the steadily growing busyness of the streets. Farmers, vendors, a few guards; slowly the roads began to fill with those passing by going about their daily business.

As they approach the Shimmer Ward, Beau suppressed a sigh, glancing sidelong at Caleb beside her. He was putting on a good show, but she could tell he was worried. Had been for the entire walk across the city. The silence had been heavy and tense and Beau could _swear_ she could hear the wheels in his head turning. Molly had been pretty spot on with his guess earlier, and she figured now was as good a time as any to start the conversation and keep up her end of the deal with Molly.

“No one’s mad at you, ya know.” She stated bluntly, earning a slight twitch that might have been a flinch and a nervous look from the wizard.

“Ah, I- am sorry?”

“You just look worried, so I’m just saying. No one’s mad. Is it because Molly went with the others? Because it wasn’t his idea, I asked him to, I wanted to talk to you…“ Beau paused, biting back a groan because Caleb had gone tense and maybe a shade pale at those words. Definitely the wrong choice of words there, but she’d thought they’d gotten the whole ‘talking’ issue straightened out.

“No, no, it’s nothing bad, I just- I mean, it’s like I said, two of us won’t be noticed as much.” She explained, pausing for a long moment before adding reluctantly. “And yeah, okay, I wanted to talk to you. But I swear, just talk, okay? I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“I- of… of course, Beauregard. What do you wish to know?” Caleb replied, words slow and halting before smoothing out in a submissive tone.

That wasn’t exactly a reassuring agreement, his tone far too carefully blank. “This isn’t an interrogation, Caleb.”

He winced at that, color flushing up his neck. “My- my apologies, Beauregard. Ah, w-what would you like to… to talk about?”

And that really wasn’t any fucking better because as far as she could tell, the only thing he’d gotten from that clarification was her correcting his terminology. It certainly didn’t sound like her assurance had done anything to change his perception of what was going down.

“Ugh…. Dammit… I’m so fucking bad at this, okay, I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk, I was just worried, okay? I’m not mad, or… or whatever, I just…” Beau tried to control the frustration, directed at herself for just completely screwing this up, because Caleb was already wound up enough by her idiocy. “Look, I heard about what happened between you and Molly. The other day at the tavern.”

Caleb was tense already but went practically rigid, flush creeping up his neck to turn his face a rosey hue.

Beau continued quickly, trying to head off any panic the wizard might feel. “It’s fine, okay, you’re two grown ass adults. And he said you two talked about it, and he’s a good guy, he won’t make you do something you don’t want. But I was just…. worried you might not be comfortable telling someone where the line is. So, if you want, you can consider me like… a third party. Neutral. If you need me to step up and tell Molly to cool it or back off, I will. No questions asked, no repercussions, nothing. I’ll just… let him know. Boundaries, yeah?”

Beau felt her own face heating in embarrassment as she explained, looking away pointedly. She sucked at this, but she just wanted Caleb to know they were on his side, would look out for him even among each other. They were doing a pretty shitty job with that right now considering all that had happened with Fjord…

“Boundaries? I don’t-“ Caleb cut himself off, taking in a nervous breath before continuing. “I had thought- Molly had said… he said there were no rules, d-did I not…”

Beau came to a sudden stop and Caleb’s words halted as well. She turned to face him with a furrowed brow, stomach sinking. She knew before she asked what his answer would be, knew but had to ask anyway. “Caleb… What do you think boundaries are?”

“Rules.” Caleb answered simply.

Well that fucking explained why he never moved away from them. If he didn’t think he had the right to personal space, had been taught to make whoever was over him happy, of _course_ he would just let people invade his space whenever they wanted.

Beau let out a sigh running her hand through her hair as she turned and started walking again, Caleb automatically keeping in step. She was _not_ equipped to handle this kind of issue; especially not out here a stones throw away from the Candles district. Still, she couldn’t just leave him wondering and worrying he’d pissed her off.

Beauregard took a slow breath, giving it her best shot to explain.

“They’re not. Not really. It’s different. Like the difference between belonging _with_ us, and _to_ us. Rules are where people tell you what you can and can’t do in general. Boundaries are what you tell people they can or can’t do to _you_.”

Caleb was quiet for a while, brow furrowed in thought. He understood what she was saying, the difference was clear when she laid it out in such a way. Trent had used the term boundaries for a while, when he had first taken Caleb as a student, though that had soon turned to the more familiar ‘rules’. Caleb had always presumed the phrases were synonymous, he’d not been allowed to question Ikithon even in the beginning, so he’d never considered asking.

Though, even if he had known such, Ikithon had early on demonstrated that it was not Caleb’s place to tell him what to do. Unless he was mistaken, Beauregard was suggesting that he _should_ be telling them what to do, or not to do in this case, as it regarded to himself.

It… it made no sense.

How would… how would he be allowed to tell them _not_ to do something? He was theirs- _We don’t own you._. No, he didn’t… belong (?) to them… they had… had made that clear. They wanted him to stay, but they did not want his obedience as Ikithon had. Caduceus had even once said there would be no repercussions for his refusal to allow the cleric to heal him. He hadn’t tested that assurance, but it had been made.

But there had to be rules- Except… Molly said there were no rules, he’d just repeated that to Beauregard. No rules, no punishments, no corrections, he was allowed to ask questions (to Molly at least), and… and he was allowed to have boundaries?

“Hey, okay, keep walking, play it cool, but someone is following us.” Beau said lowly, interrupted his thoughts. They had made it well within the Candles, the tall towers scattered clearly visible spread out over the large mansions and other buildings of the district. The area was familiar to Caleb, a quick glance around telling him exactly where he was and where they were headed.

Caleb glanced over at Beau, feeling a hint of apprehension, but obeyed the instruction. The idea of being followed was not surprising, he’d known it would only be a matter of time before Trent got eyes on them. Scrying spells were useful to a point but did not provide the length of observation that would be beneficial to Ikithon.

“Ah, what do you wish to do?” Caleb asked softly, keeping pace beside the monk.

Beau frowned, thinking for a few paces. “You were able to walk a little when you were looking through Frumpkin back in Zadash. Think you could keep that up long enough for you to get a good look at the guy through your cat?”

“I…I can…” Caleb agreed hesitantly.

Beau came to a stop, crossing her arms as she turned and looked up at the tall tower and manor grounds she and Yasha had met Fjord and Nott at the previous day. She looked towards Caleb, eyes flickering for just the barest moment over his shoulder and down the street behind them before asking in a normal tone. “So, who lives here?”

Answering was simple, Caleb had learned the names, rank, and abilities of all the other Assembly leaders long ago. Repeating the information on demand was also nothing new. His barely need have looked, could have answered without seeing the familiar manicured lawn, the expensive mansion across the grass.

“This is the resident of Master Ikithon, shared at times by his students.”

As he spoke, Caleb scanned the area nearby for a visible, yet hidden, area to summon Frumpkin. With a click of his fingers, the fey cat appeared nestled between two shrubbery that bordered the stone wall around the property they viewed.

Beau shifted closer, throwing an arm over his shoulder and guiding him back toward the street to continue walking. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you run into anything or trip, okay.” Beau assured him quietly.

Caleb nodded, his heart hammering in his chest at the sudden proximity of the monk. He managed to contain the flinch, schooling his expression into neutrality. There was no reason to be afraid, no reason for the dread curling in his stomach. She had not hurt him, had just the previous evening expressed how they were friends. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, hadn’t yet had a chance to fail at the assigned task, yet his pulse still raced with anxiety.

He dropped his gaze, head ducking slightly. “Of- of course, Beauregard.” Caleb agreed, unable to keep a slight tremor from his voice.

After a couple steps to get the rhythm of Beau’s stride, Caleb turned his sensed toward Frumpkin, soon viewing the world through the cat’s eyes. He could still feel Beau’s arm on his shoulders, keeping him moving in a straight line. He kept Frumpkin hidden; if the one who followed them was someone from the Assembly, it was possibly they would recognize the cat, or at least know enough to consider the possibility of a familiar.

Soon enough, the person following them passed by the manor they had stopped at. Caleb directed Frumpkin to pad along after the figure, keeping behind them to not be seen.

“It is… a human, male, no defining features or anything that particularly stands out.” Caleb began explaining, keeping his voice low. He directed Frumpkin to sneak closer, ranging out to the side so he could get a look at the person’s face.

“I believe I… I may know him? Or, the disguise at least. If it truly is. I cannot be certain. I have worked a handle full of times with one of Ikithon’s… ah, acquaintances?” Caleb explained, unsure how to categorize the person in question. Trent had not had ‘friends’ since Headmaster Oremid. This person wasn’t a colleague either, that was not the sense that Caleb had gotten. “After Eodwulf’s loss and Astrid was sent to Tal’dorei, he would accompany me on missions that required more than myself. His name is Illian, he was- is one of Trent’s more, ah, dedicated supporters. His appearance is one that Illian often took when attempting to go unnoticed.”

One of Trent’s people, unsurprising. Beau wondered if their follower was expecting her to treat Caleb like Trent did, or like most of the monks would treat an Assembly mage. What would they think seeing she wasn’t? Beau wasn’t about to suggest some kind of subterfuge, there was no way Caleb would be okay with that.

Yeah, he’d _agree_. He agreed with everything. But he was still jumpy, nervous around her, had been tense from the moment she put her arm around him. While walking he had half stumbled, leaning his weight on her for the barest of moments before flinching away. He’d stayed next to her, hadn’t shaken off her touch or broken the link between himself and Frumpkin, but he’d been trembling ever since.

Her pretending to be an abusive dick wasn’t going to feel like pretend to him, no matter what assurances she made before and after. And Beau didn’t think she could bring herself to do anything to him anyway.

She _hated_ how afraid Caleb was of her. It wasn’t his fault, she knew it would take time considering how she’d treated him when they first met. Given his background and upbringing (didn’t even fucking understand the concept of having boundaries), her not knowing wasn’t an excuse, it was sickening to think of how she’d pushed him around and threatened him simply because of prejudice.

No, playacting the way Trent expected them to treat Caleb wasn’t going to work.

As he finished describing the person, the light glow left his eyes his step growing more assured now that he could see. He clicked his fingers, presumably sending Frumpkin away because she didn’t see the cat appear anywhere around them.

Caleb stills did not move away from her, so she carefully released him, shifting away slightly. There was definitely fear in his eyes when he glanced over at her, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done, or what he thought _he_ had done, to make him scared.

“Well, like you said earlier. There are connections, so it’s not weird we’d make our way to this side of the city.” Beau commented, speaking quietly. She was not the best at comfort and reassurance, so avoiding the issue seemed how to best handle it right now.

“Yes, of- of course, ah, I would… I would be expected to- to report back to Trent.” Caleb said softly. “As we did stop… outside his property.”

“In person or just a message?” Beau questioned, frowning.

“Ah… t-that would- would depend.” Caleb answered, anxiety evident in the thick accent in his voice. “Do you require further, ah, information or- or investigation of this area?”

Beau tried to school her expression into something that would not be taken as anger or disapproval towards him. “What answer makes it so you don’t have to go visit fuckface in person?”

Caleb startled, blinking at her in surprise rather than fear, so Beau took that as a victory. “Ah, if we will not be seen investigating here, I would… would need only message him, assure him I had dissuaded any further interest.”

“Good, then that’s the one. We should have all we need now anyway.” Beau stated as she began heading in a slow arching path back towards the Cobalt Soul. “We know at least one person besides Trent involved. Let’s head back, try and lose our tail in the market, and we’ll swing around to meet up with the others.”


	75. Chapter 75

Yasha took the lead of the others, following the path she and Beau had taken the previous day. As planned, she and Molly spent a little while at the market, playing oblivious and ‘trying’ to blend in. Both of them knew the others were around, and Nott was looking for anyone following them, so they weren’t too concerned with paying attention to the people around them beyond keeping an eye out for hostility.

They got plenty of dirty looks, especially as they moved from the lower districts to the middle class section of town. Molly wrinkled his nose, but plastered a smile on his face the majority of the time, keeping up a cheerful discussion with Yasha.

After about an hour or so of wandering the market, Yasha received a message from Nott. The Aasimar paused, straightening from where she had been looking at an array of colorful flowers. _Yasha, We haven’t seen anyone following you and Fjord’s getting all antsy. Do you want to head to the secret passage? Youcanreplytothismessage._

“Oh, uh, yes, we should be going. Now, uh. Molly?” Yasha said, turning the response into a statement towards the blood hunter as she received an odd look from the flower vendor.

Molly poked his head around the cart a few feet away. “Hm? Oh, yeah, sure. Let me just…” He turned back to the man, grinning at him and flipping him a gold coin. The human caught it, giving it a dubious look before passing a small basket of miniature cakes to the Teifling.

Molly sidled up beside Yasha, taking one of the purple blossoms from the selection of flowers and giving it to Yasha. He handed another coin to the human running this cart, winking at her. The lady was much more friendly, even if she looked confused and a little nervous, accepting the coin and even bidding them a good day. Molly looped his arm around Yasha’s, pulling her away.

“What are those?” Yasha asked curiously, using her free hand to retrieve her journal and tucking the flower safely among the pages.

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Molly answered. “Some kind of little cakes, with fruit and sugar syrup stuff on top. I thought Jester might like them, the vendor was saying they were a new invention.”

“He told you that?” Yasha asked, a slight smile quirking her lips.

“Oh, no. He didn’t tell _me_. I overheard him telling every single other person who passed by.” Molly laughed, though there was a slight edge to his voice.

Yasha smiled at him, though she could tell the people around them, the looks they were getting, were taking it’s toll on Molly’s usual good humour. She let the matter drop though, instead led the way toward the Cobalt Soul.

The rest of the group began to filter back around them once they reached the Tangles, disguises fading away as they reached the main library of the Cobalt Soul. Molly handed Jester the basket of little cakes, earning a hug and a kiss on the cheek for his thoughtfulness.

It took Yasha a while to find the correct road to the entrance of the tunnel. She took a few wrong turns, ending up at the far northern side of the district before they had to reorient themselves back at the main library of the Cobalt Soul.

“I am very sorry you guys, I thought I remembered the way but…” Yasha apologized sheepishly. “I saw the main road up there, and I know Beau and I did not go back that way, but it was definitely toward the inner walls…”

“What if we doubled back, got on the main road and just followed the wall?” Nott asked.

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of trying to keep a low profile? Would be a little obvious.” Molly pointed out.

“Okay okay, but the inner wall is….” Jester paused, turning and holding up a finger to test the wind, before pointing in the direction of the Shimmer Ward. “That way!”

“We don’t have to find the exact house Beau took you to yesterday.” Fjord stated, struggling to keep his irritation in check. “We can go in that direction, avoid the main road, and when we get to the wall, follow it to where ever the fuck it is we needed to go in the first place.”

Molly narrowed his eyes at the warlock, but Caduceus stepped forward between them. “We should get going, we don’t want Caleb and Beau to have to wait for us and we don’t know what we’ll find in there.”

“There wasn’t anything when we went yesterday.” Yasha stated, though she followed Jester as the blue Tiefling led the way in an overtly cheerful parade march.

It took about hour, both walking and then eventually searching for the entrance once they reached where Yasha was certain was the right spot. Nott was the one to find it, falling through the illusion as she and Jester searched along the stone wall.

Jester skipped through after the goblin, helping her up and peering around the surprising darkness considering the bright sunlight of the early afternoon. One by one, the rest of them followed Jester and Nott until they were all crowded in the entrance.

“There was a trap, a little ways ahead.” Yasha warned. “And another, further in. Those were the only two I had found.”

“I’ll disarm them.” Nott said confidently, taking a little nip from her flask, then one more before scurrying around the group to take the lead.

~~

Fjord, Nott, Jester, Yasha, Molly, and Caduceus arrived at the fork in the tunnel before Caleb and Beauregard, though the two soon appeared, Caleb lighting the way with a few orbs of light.

“Figured you guys would beat us here.” Beau said as a greeting. “We had someone following us, had to lose them in the market before heading here.”

“You get a good look at who it was?” Fjord asked.

Beau nodded, glancing over at Caleb. “Yeah, Caleb did. Says it some guy named Illiad. Works for Trent. And no surprise, the place next to this secret entrance? Belongs to Ikithon.”

“Do you think Illiad would turn on Trent? Give us some dirt?” Nott asked hopefully.

“Unlikely.” Caleb replied. “However, he is not… the most careful in some things. Searching his office or resident might provide some evidence. It is well know his affiliation with Ikithon, evidence against him would reflect on Trent, should it not already mention his involvement.”

“Sounds like a job for the detective duo!” Nott said excitedly, meeting Jesters equally excited expression.

“Perhaps we should wait until _after_ we explore the spooky tunnels under the castle?” Fjord suggested.

“Fine.” Jester huffed, though she was still smiling. “Ooooh, and Caleb can turn people invisible too! Nott, we can both be invisible!!”

"Again, _after_.” Fjord reminded her with a light sigh.

“Hey, what about that one exit halfway back?” Beau asked, nodding her head toward the direction the others would have taken. “Did you guys check that out?”

“Yes, it led up to a trap door, but it was locked.” Yasha explained simply.

“Nott tried to open it and it melted her lockpicks.” Jester informed them, giving the goblin a sad look.

“Judging the distance, I’d guess it comes up somewhere _within_ the castle.” Molly added with a shrug. “Forcing the lock didn’t seem like a bright idea if that’s the case.”

“But I gave Nott one of my ribbons and she hid it near the door, so when we go to the castle for the banquet, we can totally find it.” Jester said, grinning with a little chuckle.

“That… ah, that is very clever.” Caleb said, hesitating at first as if he hadn’t meant to really speak.

“Oh, Caleb, you say the sweetest things!” Jester beamed at the compliment, more so that it had been from Caleb, who never voiced his opinion hardly at all.

“Should find out what’s down this last path?” Caduceus asked, subtly trying to get them back on track.

The second path was about as short as the one leading to the exit near Trent’s manor, though instead of an illusionary wall it let to a simple wood door. Nott approached it first, inspecting it and, after a moment, declaring it safe from traps. A short tug proved it locked, but Beauregard tossed her a spare lockpick set and she started working.

“How close to the castle do you think we are?” Jester wondered, watching Nott working on the lock. She brightened, turning away from Nott and skipping over to Caleb. "Oh, by the way, here! It's been a while since breakfast, and Molly got us all a snack and I saved you one."

"Oh... Uh, t-thank you, Jester." Caleb said in surprise, accepting the carefully wrapped little cake.

"You are very welcome, and I know we are about to go exploring this place, so you don't have to eat it now, it won't hurt my feelings." Jester explained quickly, giving him a quick little side hug.

Caleb nodded, a bit at a loss, but tentatively pleased that Jester had thought of him. He put the cake away for later, answering her question as he tried not to let himself read too much into what her motivations might be. She was so forthcoming, she probably _had_ no ulterior motive, for all that he was so used to trying to find one.

“Ah… based on the distance, presuming this- this is the end… it would be under the northern end of the castle.” Caleb answered, voice wavering slightly when Fjord’s gaze shifting briefly towards him.

With a soft click that interrupted further discussion, Nott finished unlocking the door, stepping back as she pulled it open. It swung open into darkness, the dim light of Caleb’s cantrip illuminating only a foot or so into the entrance. They all paused, waiting, listening in case anyone was inside and might have heard them. There was nothing but a long silence, not even a movement of air from within.

“Caleb, can you have one of those lights float up ahead? Just a little.” Beau asked quietly, stepping forward to take the lead.

Caleb answered with a slight wave of his hand, sending one ball of light up in front of the monk, the rest floating along the line up of the group. The tunnel beyond the door was narrow enough they needed to walk single file. Nott followed along after Beau, scanning the area for any traps as they moved. Fjord and Caduceus followed next, with Caleb behind them and Molly and Yasha bringing up the rear.

It was cooler past here, a dry mustiness to the air, and the only sound was that of their footsteps on packed earth. The path only stretched another ten feet from the doorway before opening up into a larger cavern. Caleb’s light globes spread out a little as the space opened up, though the soft illumination did not show the entirety of the room.

The group moved forward cautiously; Beauregard first with Fjord moving up to a position slightly behind her, Caduceus keeping step beside him. Nott, Jester, Caleb, Molly, and Yasha followed after, fanning out slightly in the larger area.

“I think… Are those boxes?” Fjord asked, squinting and moving out of the dim light cast by Caleb’s cantrip. “Caduceus, could you…?”

Light flared from Caduceus’ staff, spilling into the area and lighting the room in it’s entirety. The cavern itself wasn’t large, perhaps the size of moderate tavern’s main room. There were a great many crates stacked in the room, one large empty space on the far side, and a desk and chair halfway between.

Caduceus stepped forward to join Fjord, watching curiously as the half orc pried one of the lids from the crate with the sound of cracking wood. The contents sparkled and flashed a green reflection of the light from Caduceus’ staff, the box filled with familiar shards of crystal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you know how pissed off Percy would be knowing what Trent was doing with his little residuum crystal experiments on Caleb (and others)?
> 
> Well, let's just make that worse, shall we?


	76. Chapter 76

Caleb’s breath caught in his throat, irrational panic seizing his thoughts as he took an involuntary step back, coming to a sudden halt as he ran into Yasha’s broad form.

“Caleb?” Yasha questioned, automatically reaching out to steady him.

The wizard flinched under her hand but stayed still, head ducking slightly as his dancing lights wavered and dimmed for a moment as he tried to get himself under control. They had no expectations of him, gave no orders, he was _fine_ , he could _be_ fine if only his heart would not twist so fearfully in his chest.

“Huh… more of these.” Caduceus commented, peering around at the massed wealth of arcane enhancement. There were quite a few crates, though none of them were extremely large.

Beau strode past them, heading towards the small writing desk. Molly inched forward, peering at the crystals as Fjord moved on to investigate another crate, finding the same contents. “Where do these things even come from? I’ve never seen anything like it before. Well, before Caleb anyway.”

“Whitestone.” Caleb breathed out the answer, taking a breath and steadying his voice as best he could. Yasha had let him go, stepped away from him slightly to get a look as well, and that helped a little.

“It is- t-they are from Whitestone, in Tal’dorei. I had not- I did not know he had… had such quantities…”

Molly frowned, turning from the box to look worriedly at the wizard.

“I wonder if Trent stole it all…” Jester wondered, opening up one of the lids as well and peering at the contents. “Do you think they know all this is here? The owners I mean.”

“H-how could they not, this is… these crystals are- are costly, to have so many-“ Caleb cut off with a flinch, shrinking back at the sound of the crystals clinking against one another; Fjord picking up a few from one of the crates to inspect them.

“Hey, I found something!” Beauregard called out, drawing their attention, and briefly waving a stack of papers in her hand. She sat on top of the desk, using the chair as a footrest as she shuffled through the stack.

Molly glanced over at the monk, still worried about Caleb, but curious what she’d found. Maybe whatever it was would distract the wizard. He started to reach out to get Caleb’s attention, usher him along, but stopped. Now seemed like one of those times were touch would actually make things worse. Caleb had his arms tucked close, knuckles white where he clutched his elbows, the rest of him taunt as a bowstring.

Yeah, definitely a bad sign. Molly hadn’t forgotten all the scars on Caleb’s arms. What he’d started to do when he thought they’d want a demonstration of these crystals.

Instead of reaching out, Molly moved in front of Caleb, blocking his line of sight of Fjord (who Caleb was far too focused on while the warlock rifled through the crystals) and caught the wizard’s gaze. “Hey, no one is going to make you use them, or even touch them. Why don’t we go swipe those papers from Beau?”

Caleb nodded quickly, grasping at the suggestion without regard to any concern that he might be ‘stealing’ something from the monk. Hesitant as he was to cross her, or any of them, that was proof enough how out of sorts this surprise discovery had made him.

“Looks like ledgers.” Beau commented as they walked up, taking one look at the mage and passing half of the papers to Caleb. “Dates, amounts. Goes back months. Do you recognize the handwriting?”

Caleb accepted it automatically, nerves beginning to calm slowly, though he could not help but remain hyper aware of Fjord wandering at the peripheral of his vision. Nott and Jester continued to search around the room as well, Caduceus providing the main light source. Caleb’s own light cantrip still hung in the air and he gathered them together around him so that he could easier read the parchment.

“It is Illiad’s penmanship.” He recognized instantly, eyes skimming numbers and dates.

“Why is he getting so many of these?” Beau muttered, flipping through pages. “It’s not a lot each time, but it adds up. Obviously. Must cost a fortune…”

“There… there is no way- Even the King could not afford a fraction of this amount.” Caleb stated softly, shaking his head. Slowly, bit by bit, he seemed to be unwinding. He never fully relaxed, still spoke very carefully and kept vigilantly aware of the rest of their movements.

“Even if the King were paying for it, this goes back months. That would have put a strain on funding the war effort. After years of fighting, doesn’t seem like way to spend precious needed gold.” Molly commented, reading over Beau’s shoulder.

“You’re right.” She agreed, frowning. “And no way that wouldn’t have been noticed if that were the case. I doubt very much Trent has the funds. If he didn’t buy them, did he steal them? And does the King know about it…”

“Hey you guys!” Jester called out to them, waving her hand from the section of the room void of crates. “Check it out, it’s one of those circle things that Caleb uses!”

Caleb tilted his head slightly, falling in step beside Beau and Molly as they headed over to the cleric. True to her word, there on the ground in front of her lay inscribed a teleportation circle. Jester squatted down, folding her arms over her knees as she inspected the circle. Glancing up at Caleb as the other three approached, she asked. “Can you tell where it leads to?”

“No.” Caleb said slowly, eyes flickering over the different runes permanently engraved in the ground. “That is, ah, not how- Each permanent teleportation circle is created with a specific sequence of sigils. They are not connected to each other like doorways.”

“Oh.” Jester straightened, tapping her chin with a finger. “I wonder if there’s also one over on Tal’dorei…”

“But wait, if Trent stole all this from Whitestone, why would he put the teleportation circle under the castle? Keep all the evidence here?” Beau asked.

“Deniability.” Caleb answered absently, brow furrowing as he looked at Jester. His gaze slowly turned back to the teleportation circle, tone distracted as he explained. “He could blame them, claim they had created this room, the circle, that they were moving supplies here to attack the Empire from the inside.”

Molly shifted closer to the wizard; expression worried. He could tell Caleb wasn’t quite with them. He had a far off look in his eyes, but there was no fear, no hesitation. It would be refreshing if it wasn’t for the calculation happening behind the mage’s eyes. This was the battle seasoned war mage Caleb had been trained to be, looking into the enemy’s movements five steps ahead.

“But _why_?” Caleb asked, brow furrowing in confusion. “To have so much… Trent has to have been doing this for some time, the ledgers go back months, yes, but he has been experimenting for years. The very existence of a permanent teleportation circle is proof he has been transporting them here, in this manner, for at least one year. The number of crates and the amounts from the ledger suggest a great deal longer. I never though, never asked, how he had obtained them. We have only just made peace with the Dynasty, there is enough bad blood… The empire can not survive another war so soon, not on two fronts.”

“Woah, woah. Hold on.” Beau interrupted, stepping forward. “What do you mean, two fronts?”

“Trent could not have paid for these.” Caleb explained, gesturing shortly towards the crates. He dropped his gaze as Fjord made his way over, wrapping his arms around himself again though he forced himself to continue to explain. “These are valuable magical items, their loss will not go unnoticed.”

“I wonder why haven’t they noticed them missing before?” Caduceus questioned, the Firbolg joining them along with the rest of the group.

“Maybe they have, just haven’t figured out where it all went. Caleb, you mentioned Astrid had gone to Tal’dorei.” Beau pointed out, remembering Caleb saying that earlier when explaining about Illiad. “Do you think she was involved?”

“That is very likely.” Caleb replied. “She is… she has become… more like Trent than- than I had thought she… Ah, nevertheless, like myself she has the capability to utilize a teleportation circle. She would have been in Tal’dorei long enough to create a permanent teleportation circle there, if she had been ordered to do so. If she were the one keeping the authorities from discovering the theft or mode transport, it… it is likely only a matter of time before it is discovered.”

“And if they see the Empire’s behind it, that might be enough to start a fight.” Beau muttered, nodding in understanding. “Would they be able to tell how to get to this circle, if one is on their side?”

“No. Just as I cannot activate this circle to get to theirs, they would not be able to come here without knowledge of the unique sequence.” Caleb reassured her.

“It’d be a pretty easy conquest for them, if you think about it, with how weakened the Empire is.” Molly pointed out, unsettled. He didn’t much care for the Empire; most of the treatment he got was bigoted and racist, but there were plenty of nice people too. And if there was another war started, ‘gifted’ to them or not, Dwendal would want his powerful war mage back to help defend the Kingdom.

Molly wasn’t too thrilled with the thought of Caleb going back to the battlefield. Or anyone having to go back to the battlefield, there had been enough blood shed already.

“Where does the two fronts come in?” Yasha asked.

“Xhorhas.” Nott answered, Caleb nodding in agreement. “The war only stopped because both sides were running out of manpower and money. Both sides still don’t like each other.”

“And your worried that if all of a sudden it looks like they could win the war and prevent it from happening again, the Bright Queen might take that opportunity.” Fjord guessed.

“It… it is a possibility.” Caleb expressed, anxiety returning full force under the warlock’s gaze.

“Do you think this is enough to go to the King about?” Jester asked.

“Maybe.” Beau said, rubbing the back of her neck for a moment, one hand on her hip. “I was kind of… do you think it’s possible Trent caste some sort of spell like he did to Caleb? Made it so the King listens to him more? If he’s listening to that fucker’s influence, he might not believe anything we tell him.”

“It is not… impossible.” Caleb answered carefully. “Though many such spells leave the target aware that arcane influence was used. Those meant to give full control of the target create a very, ah… distinct difference of behavior.”

“Trent’s probably not controlling the King then?” Molly asked.

“Such direct action is not his preference, at least.” Caleb clarified.

“Wouldn’t be much point in controlling him if he’s planning to kill him.” Fjord pointed out. “You’d think Trent would want to keep him alive if that was the case.”

“There’s got to be something we’re missing.” Molly muttered, frustration coloring his tone.

“What exactly happens when you use these?” Fjord asked, holding up a couple of crystals he taken from the crates. He continued quickly, seeing Molly’s glare and Caleb shrinking back. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m just… You said they extend the… effect of a spell? Duration?”

Caleb paused before answering, gathering up his own courage and will. “It… the effect varies depending on the… the strength of the spell cast, the type. For some it extends duration, other spells it allows the spell to exceed its normal limitations. The cost to the caster is always the same; though again, the extent varies with the strength of the spell.”

“Didn’t Eodwolf stab himself in the arm with them.” Molly pointed out, trying to subtly hint to Fjord to drop it.

“That is how the crystals react to the arcane energy in the caster, allowing them to be utilized to affect the spell caste. That release of energy often shatters the crystals, excess energy causing damage to the user.” Caleb listed carefully, not quite looking at any of them.

“Not something you’d want to apply to this teleportation spell then. Because I’d hate for whoever is in Tal’dorei to know how to use these things, figure out how to open the circle to here, and let through a whole army.” Fjord stated, frowning as he looked back over to the circle.

“Fuck, could they do that?” Beau asked, turning to Caleb.

“In theory, possibly.” Caleb said carefully, arms tightening around himself. “Whether the one casting survived or not would depend on… on many things. I do not know to what extend the duration of the spell would be extended, how many would make it through in the time allotted, if it would be worth the cost of a mage for the advantage of moving troops quickly.”

“Dairon was worried Ikithon is after the throne, if he take control, wants to try and finish of Xhorhas then go after Tal’dorei, or at least Whitestone is my guess… Pretty sure I know what his answer would be to that cost.” Beau said, crossing her arms.

“These things can kill the person using them?” Fjord questioned in surprise.

“It- it is not always… I could show you what it does? With- with j-just a small cantrip, please, if you wish?” Caleb gaze flickering from Fjord’s grimacing frown to Beau’s equally irritated expression, the range of worried concern over the majority of the group. He glanced over at Molly, hurrying to add as he saw a disapproving expression. “It would not cause that much damage.”

“Caleb, ‘not that much’ is still some, and is still too much just to satisfy curiosity. You know what it does, you told us how it works, that’s enough. Besides, you don’t like using them, we can all tell, so you shouldn’t have to. We don’t need a demonstration.” Molly said firmly, sending a narrowed-eyed glare towards Fjord.

“Why don’t we take a few of these pages as evidence?” Caduceus suggested, changing the subject in hopes of breaking the tension and avoiding an argument. “Just in case they come in useful. Not enough it would be noticed they were missing, but a few.”

“Yeah, Cad’s right. We probably shouldn’t hang around here too long…” Beau agreed, heading over to the desk to replace most of the papers and tucking a few sheets into her pockets. “Regroup back at the inn?”

Molly nodded, answering Beauregard while still keeping an eye on Fjord. “We can get a few rooms, figure out what the game plan is for this banquet.”

The group followed the same line up traveling out of the cavern and tunnels, though Fjord moved himself up closer to the front of the line and further from Caleb. The atmosphere held more tension as they left, Nott locking the door behind them. As they all approached the exit into the Candles district, Nott turned herself invisible, stepping out from the illusion and giving the all clear for the rest of them.

One by one, they stepped out onto the street, breaking off into two’s or three’s to keep a low profile on the way back to the inn.


	77. Chapter 77

By unspoken agreement, Beauregard was the one to speak to the innkeeper about reserving a few rooms. The rest of the Nine kept their distance as they claimed a table at the far side of the room, though Molly nudged Caleb forward to go give Beau some assistance when the monk looked like she was about to lose her patience with the proprietor of the inn. With some trepidation, Caleb wove his way through the evening crowd towards the bar. He was a little surprised to see Beauregard take several deep breaths upon noticing him, unclenching her fists in the process.

“Caleb, perfect, will you please tell this person that we just want a few rooms?” Beau ground out.

“I don’t think our other-“ The innkeeper began, though Beau cut him off, slamming her hand on the countertop and causing both him and Caleb to jump.

“Look. I’m Expositor Beauregard with the Cobalt Soul, that’s Caleb Widogast with the Cerberus Assembly.” Beau snapped, jerking a thumb to indicate Caleb. “Are you gonna let us pay for a damn room or not?”

The innkeeper narrowed his eyes, looking disbelievingly at Caleb. His tone was snide, gaze flickering over to the rest of the Nine as he asked. “The Assembly allowed someone to go work for _them_?”

“Oh, for- Yes! You need proof he’s actually a mage? Caleb, go on, do some magic, light something on fire.” Beau huffed sarcastically.

Caleb glanced at Beauregard out of reflex even as he lifted a hand and caste the simple flame cantrip. He wasn’t entirely sure if the order was a real one but followed it anyway to be safe. The request was simple and vague enough he could obey without causing harm or damage and she seemed in a bad enough mood he wasn’t about to test her patience. Fire flickered into existence in his palm, coating his hand as the flames danced brightly.

Beau looked at him, lifting an eyebrow but soon smirked, turning her attention back to the innkeeper.

“Alright, alright!” He hissed lowly, looking decidedly paler. “I apologize for doubting you, will you make him stop!”

Beau snorted laughter, unthinkingly throwing out a hand and lightly slapping Caleb’s arm. He dropped his gaze, the flames vanishing as he folded his arms behind his back.

“How many nights are you staying? We have four rooms available.” The innkeeper stated nervously, distracting Beau from Caleb for a moment.

“Five, at most.” Beau answered, smug humor gone. She paid the amount he told her, accepting the keys he slid across the counter towards her.

Beau barely glanced at the innkeeper after that, reaching out to tug Caleb to the side for a moment before he could start heading back to the others. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, okay, I was just… that was really cool, what you did, okay? I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Did I hurt you? I’m really sorry if I did.”

Caleb looked up at her, nervous anxiety evident and his gaze flashed quickly over to the rest of the group before resting on her again. “You… ah, y-you are n-not angry?”

“Of course not, no. That was awesome, you lit your hand on fire!” Beau said, half smiling with a little laugh, even though she was still a little worried. “But you’re not hurt, right?”

“Ah, n-no. It… it is a simple cantrip.”

“No- I mean, yeah, that’s good, but not what I was-“ Beau floundered, putting her hand over her face and groaning. “Fuck… come one, let’s just go…”

Caleb watched her for a moment before following, brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense out of what had just happened.

~~

The group hung out for a while in the tavern section of the inn, Caleb eventually volunteering to go order some food for them when Nott complained she was hungry. Beauregard was quick to agree with him, gleefully telling the others how the mage had scared the shit out of the snobbish innkeeper and would probably be the one convince him to even make them some food. Jester, of course, was VERY interested and Molly had a wide grin as he leaned forward to listen.

It was wildly embellished, causing flush to creep up Caleb’s face and he very gladly left to go request a meal for them all. He was ignored by the majority of the customers, something he was perfectly content with, though the innkeeper was quick to take the order of food for the table.

Most of the humans in the tavern eating or drinking were also keeping an eye on the Mighty Nine; Jester and Molly’s vibrant colors were eye catching to say the least, and Yasha was large and impossible not to notice.

Yasha ended up coming to help Caleb carry the food over to the overs, something the mage was grateful for as it turned out the server had absolutely no intention of going anywhere near the ‘demons over there’. Despite the tense, and somewhat hostile at times, atmosphere, the Mighty Nine managed to have a pleasant enough meal. They generally ignored all those around them and Caleb summoned Frumpkin for Jester when the cleric’s smile wavered a bit as couple of people made a show of taking their things and leaving.

It was almost an act of defiance, the Nine sitting at the table and talking cheerfully despite the dirty looks a few patrons threw their way. They refused to retreat upstairs to the rented rooms, refused to try and make themselves unseen.

After a while, with the sun fully set the crowd of patrons ebbing for the evening, and the Nine had blown off enough steam just bullshitting around doing nothing, it was Jester who leaned forward with a quieter tone to ask. “We have a week left, right?” She glanced at Caleb for confirmation, the wizard inclining his head slightly in agreement and she continued. “We’ve explored the tunnels, investigated the locals, what’s next?”

Frumpkin made a slight ‘mrr’ sound, hopping up from Jester’s lap to pad across the table to Caleb. The wizard’s expression softened slightly towards the fey animal, lifting a hand and petting him gently. He used the cat’s fur in an attempt to hide how wrote a rune in the air, muttering a word under his breath as he caste the spell.

Beauregard leaned on one elbow, watching him with curiosity; Caduceus’ attentions more covert though his interest was also piqued. None of the others seemed to notice and the two let Caleb look slowly around the room, going so far as to look above and in the corners of the room.

“I want to go try and see what we can find at…at…” Nott frowned, brow furrowed as she tried to remember the name.

“Yeah yeah! That guy!” Jester agreed excitedly, dropping her voice as Nott shushed her. She didn’t bother trying to remember the name, but she knew who Nott was talking about. “We totally have to search his place. And shopping! If we’re going to a party we _have_ to go shopping.”

“See anything?” Beau asking in a low whispered hiss to Caleb while Jester and Nott spoke, leaning towards him.

Caleb tensed slightly, gaze flickering over to her. He was a little relieved to find no irritation, though anxiety still curled in his stomach. He shook his head silently, focusing on Frumpkin to avoid her gaze.

Beau nodded, relaxing back and looking back at Jester and Nott. “If you go over by the Candles and Trent’s place, don’t be seen. Caleb said he’s gotta message the bastard, since we were over there today, but if they notice we’re still looking he’d have to go see him in person.”

“Really?” Fjord asked speaking up for the first time since they’d arrived at the inn, a frown on his face. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” Molly grumbled, not at all thrilled with Fjord’s derisive tone.

Caleb answered the warlock before he could reply to Molly, hoping to head off any irritation. It was not a difficult explanation, though Fjord’s sharp gaze on him as he spoke made keeping his voice from trembling an effort. “I was told to dissuade any suspicion of the Cerberus Assembly. A simple message will suffice if I have succeeded. Continued investigation suggests failure.”

“So don’t be seen.” Beau stated, glaring over toward both Fjord and Molly trying to silent tell them to get their shit together.

Jester and Nott agreed, bending their heads together and planning in low voices with an intermitted giggle from Jester or chuckle from Nott. Beau shook her head, wondering how she’d drawn the short straw for being the mature adult today.

“When will you need to message him?” Caduceus asked, his own expression a mix of concern and unhappiness as he focused on Caleb.

“Within the next day, at most. He would expect me to find a moment alone.” Caleb replied.

“If you want to get it over with now, you totally can.” Jester said, pulling herself from the conversation with Nott to look at him with concern. “Then you won’t have to be worried about doing it later.”

“Ah, if you wish.” Caleb agreed, curling Frumpkin closer and taking a slow breath as he used a free hand to draw out the copper wire from his components bag. Frumpkin crawled up on his shoulders as he twirled the wire around a finger, considering his words as he carefully caste the spell.

“Master, the monk had me show her the Candles, asked questions of the Assembly. She shows no further interest. The rest have no such suspicions.” Caleb waited in tense silence, heart pounding anxiously, though he received no response.

“Well, what did he say?” Fjord grunted after a long few minutes.

“Fjord.” Yasha, surprisingly, was the one to admonish him.

“Sorry…” He muttered, running a hand down his face.

Receiving no response after a simple update was nothing new, it was typical of Ikithon. Yet, the threat of his displeasure, of a response containing orders, had caused his pulse to quicken. Fjord’s current similarity to Ikithon was also not helping. Caleb reached up to pet Frumpkin, trying to settle his nerves. “He said nothing.”

“Why don’t we get some rest.” Caduceus added, eyes worried as he watched Fjord, the tension in the warlock.

Caleb stood with the rest of them, gaze flickering over to Beauregard. “S-sorry for, ah, for the way I… he would-“

“It’s fine.” Beau said unconcerned as she shook her head. “Being called ‘the monk’ is an upgrade from some things. I’m sure he’s said worse.”

Caleb flushed red, recalling the much more colorful phrases Trent had used to describe Beauregard. He followed the others up toward the back of the inn where the rooms were located. Most of the group were winding down for the evening. Fjord was a silent sullen figure in the front, Jester and Nott back to quiet planning, and Molly had gone somewhat quiet and sullen as well.

Jester dashed towards the first room, boisterously claiming it for herself and Beau.

“Caleb.” Fjord barked out, not looking at anyone as he began heading to claim the room further down the short hallway.

Caleb winced at the far too familiar tone, automatically stepping forward to fall in beside the warlock.

Molly held an arm out in front of the mage, stopping Caleb. It infuriated Molly to hear Fjord call to Caleb like he was a dog, to see Caleb obey without question, eyed down. It was habit on the wizard’s part, though he was getting better with not doing a lot of those trained reactions. That wasn’t the issue, Caleb could take as long as he wanted; no the issue was Fjord.

“Fjord, what are you doing?” Molly asked the warlock, voice dangerously soft as he stared intently at the half orc.

Yasha stiffened from where she had been about to go to her room, turning to look between the two in a silent standoff. “Molly…”

Molly ignored her, simply waiting in tense silence for Fjord to answer.

Fjord paused, brow furrowing as he looked over at Caleb and seemed to realize what he’d said. He shook his head, running a hand down his face as he let out a slow sigh. “Sorry, Molly, Caleb, I didn’t even…”

“Caleb, if you don’t mind, Fjord and I will share a room.” Caduceus took up when Fjord’s words trailed off. Fjord nodded at him, entering the room without another word. “Are you okay sharing will Molly, or would you prefer your own room?”

“I- ah, I will- will share with Molly, if- if that is… okay?” Caleb answered, anxiety turning the statement into a question as he glanced over at the blood hunter.

“Of course it’s okay. You don’t have to, it’s really fine if you want your own.” Molly offered.

“Caleb doesn’t like being alone Molly, jeez, take a hint!” Jester’s voice rang out from her room, Beau’s snorted laughter coming a second later.

“Well, what if he doesn’t want to stay with me, what if he wants to stay with you instead?” Molly commented, relaxing as Fjord and Caduceus vanished into their room.

There was a light thump heard from Jester’s doorway, a scrambling of feet before she peeked out to peer at Caleb with hopeful eyes. “You do!? Yes, okay, okay, Yasha, you can stay with Molly, Nott can have the free room, and Beau and Caleb and I will have a sleepover!”

“Actually, why don’t _I_ stay with Molly, Nott and Yasha can hang out, and that way no one is on their own.” Beau suggested, having followed Jester out. Nott looked about to argue, and Beau was pretty sure Jester hadn’t thought her arrangement all the way through. Besides, after that little episode downstairs, she honestly didn’t know if Caleb was okay with her right now… even if he seemed fine.

“Or.” Nott began, looking up at Beau. “You stay with Molly, Yasha can have the spare room, and I’ll stay with Caleb and Jester.”

“I wouldn’t mind some quiet.” Yasha mused to herself.

“Hang on.” Molly objected. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

Jester laughed, shaking her head. “No.”

“Does Caleb?” Molly asked, tone more serious.

Jester stopped at that, nodding and taking a moment before turning to the wizard, eyes wide and pleading. “Caleb, do you want to have a sleepover with me and Nott?”

“I do not mind.” He replied lightly, unsure what else to say. The rapid discussion and rearrangement was unexpected, but not objectionable. Molly seemed slightly unhappy with the proposition (or his response?), but everyone else appeared pleased.

“Is that a yes?” Jester pressed carefully. “Because it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“Ja, ah, yes, I… ah, I want to.” Caleb repeated, letting a very gleeful Jester usher him along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a lighter chapter, give you guys a moment to breath. Lol.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, you might get whiplash with this one.

It was dark.

Fjord was supposed to be meditating, was supposed to be trying to speak with the Wildmother. It was his idea in the first place. Fucking anything to just…just make it stop. He’d listened to Caduceus’ instructions, had _tried_ dammit… But he was lost in the dark again.

_**RETURN** _

The ocean rolled around him, crushing and heavy, salt burning his throat.

_**return** _

The weight lightened, the sea still around him in the smell of salt water on the breeze. He could all but feel the spray of water on his face, hear the creaking of wood as the ship rocked back and forth. Nostalgia filled him, a burning desire to go back, to be free with the open ocean around him. To feel the power of bending the tides to his will.

The scent on the wind changed, turning copper and heavy. The feeling of ocean spray on his skin was now sticky and warm, sending a feeling of sickened dread through him. There was blood on his hands, the feeling of a fragile neck as fury and frustration warred with the terror and denial in him.

Fjord opened his eyes, breathing just a little too quick, scanning the room… Caleb wasn’t here, Caduceus was still meditating, unharmed.

Molly had stopped him, Caduceus had helped, but Fjord hadn’t even realized he’d basically ordered Caleb to follow him. Who knows what he might have done…

return

_The door closing behind the human, Fjord circling around him as he knelt on the ground in deference. ___

__ **punish** _ _

_The falchion in one hand, the other wrapped around a neck, listening to the quiet drip of blood on the ground, wringing plea’s and promises of obedience_

__**PUNISH** _ _

_Blood coating his blade, his hands, a never ending fury, a thirst._

__“Fjord?”_ _

__Fjord sucked in a breath, coming back to himself and opening his eyes to find himself standing with his Falchion in hand._ _

__“Fjord, are you alright?” Caduceus asked cautiously, on his feet as well and holding a hand out toward the warlock._ _

__Fjord knew he wasn't alright, not anywhere close. It had felt so real; the sight, the sound... Too real. He tried to dismiss the Falchion, willing it away. It remained in his hand, the burning orange eye at the hilt seeming to stare at him, demanding and angry. Fjord's heart skipped and raced, fear freezing his breath for a moment. His voice was small, almost a whisper as he looked up worriedly at Caduceus._ _

"It won't go away."

__~~_ _

__“Alright, your turn!” Jester stated cheerfully to Caleb._ _

__“…ah, what?” Caleb asked, feeling completely lost. Jester had produced a large pile of ribbons and bows from her bag earlier and Nott had spent about fifteen minutes or so weaving them into Jester’s hair and around her horns. Jester had done much to same to the goblin, thought taking much more time in creating a network of braids and bows that was both impressive and disastrous to look at._ _

__Impressively enough, she’d managed to time finishing her creation with the end of retelling one of her mischievous adventures growing up in Nicodranas. There was still about a quarter of the pile of ribbons left, despite the latticework in both of the women’s hair._ _

__“It’s what people do at sleepovers, but don’t worry you can take it out before anyone else sees it if you’re embarrassed.” Jester explain, waving a hand to beckon him over._ _

__Caleb cast a dubious glance over at Nott, the goblin giving him an affirmative nod. “She’s right, doing hair is a common sleepover activity.”_ _

__It didn’t make much sense to Caleb, Jester had not done this when she had create an impromptu ‘sleepover’ in the mansion the previous evening. Although, Beauregard did not seem the type to care for such activities, and perhaps Molly did not either. He had no experience with sleepovers in general, so he could accept that ‘having his hair done’ was a requirement._ _

__Nervously, he obeyed the unspoken demand and moved to sit where Nott had been. Turning his back to Jester was harder than it should have been. The cleric had done nothing so far to deserve his reservations but having someone standing over him from behind had… unpleasant associations._ _

__His anxiety must have shown in his expression because Nott came over to sit next to him, patting his hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s actually fun.”_ _

__“N-no. No, I will.” Caleb hastened to assure them, unwilling to risk that a refusal would get him sent away. He took a slow, quiet breath, forcing himself to be still and not flinch as Jester’s hand brushed through his hair. She wasn’t quite looming over him, only standing on her knees while he sat on the floor in front of her._ _

__Jester hummed absentmindedly behind him, most of her attention on carefully braiding his hair and tying ribbons on the ends and woven loosely throughout. It might have been soothing, the lilting melody, if Caleb weren’t so busy reading into every note to keep track of her mood._ _

__He almost jumped when Nott began speaking, explaining something her son had said or done long ago, the trips her family used to take before the curse and the war. Jester asked a question here or there, sounding as if she’d heard the story before, though Nott answered them in detail anyway. It filled the silence, covered the way Caleb’s breath would almost hitch when Jester’s nails scratched against his scalp or her movements tugged at his hair._ _

__It never hurt; he could tell she was being careful. It wasn’t a threat; it wasn’t incentive for him to be still. She wasn’t angry, he could tell that much in her voice as she spoke with Nott. Slowly, by small degrees, he began to calm. Frumpkin was right there, watching closely and as unconcerned as ever. It was fine._ _

__Jester was nearly finished, and Caleb nearly used to the sensation of ribbons being weaved into his hair, when Nott finally directed a question his way. “What about you, Caleb? Have you traveled very much?”_ _

__“I have been ma- m-many places.” Caleb answered, voice breaking and wavering as he contained a flinch as Jester reached for another ribbon. He reminded himself what Molly and Beauregard always told him; it wasn’t an interrogation. “Ah, m-most I was only visiting briefly with- with Trent.”_ _

__“What’s the most interesting place you’ve been? Where’s your favorite?” Nott asked, shifting over to Caleb’s other side to be able to hand the ribbon’s to Jester._ _

__“I don’t- I… I am not sure.” Caleb stammered, finding it very hard to concentrate past the effort it took speak common, not shiver under her hands, to breathe evenly and stay still. All of his travels involved Trent and, more often than not, a dark spot of pain mingled with the visit to another place. He didn’t want to ruin Jester and Nott’s fun by describing any of those scenarios._ _

__He just felt so stupid because she had _told_ him what she was doing, he’d watched her put ribbons in Nott’s hair just as Nott had done for her, but he _still_ could not make himself completely relax. And that was obviously the _point_ of this whole exercise. Both of them had yet to do anything to cause him pain, had given no indication they were angry, he should be _fine_. They were… were being kind, _gentle_._ _

__“You can’t ask two questions at once, Nott, that’s not fair.” Jester chided, scooting around from behind Caleb to admire her work. She tapped one finger on her chin, considering then grinned. “It’s perfect! Oh, hang on!”_ _

__While Jester dove towards her bag, rifling through it, Nott amended her question to Caleb. “Okay, well, what about the most interesting place you’ve been?”_ _

__“Ah, t-the most interesting might… ah, Marquet?” Caleb answered, unable to keep his tone from lilting into a question. His attention was drawn back to Jester as she shuffled over, holding up a mirror._ _

__“What do you think?” She asked cheerfully._ _

__“Ah…” Caleb had to admit, if nothing else it was an intricate design. It definitely looked ridiculous, but he supposed it _did_ match her work on Nott’s hair. “It is…ah, lovely, Jester. Thank you.”_ _

__“Yes, it’s.. lovely…” Nott coughed out, almost choking on a laugh._ _

__Frumpkin let out a little meow, stretching up from where he’d watched the proceedings to paw at one of the longer ribbons. Jester laughed, reaching out for Frumpkin, though Caleb quickly picked the cat up before she could touch him. “S-sorry.”_ _

__“It’s okay Caleb.” Jester assured him. “Frumpkin can play with the ribbons. You don’t have to keep them in your hair, either. I know it looks horrible.”_ _

__Caleb flushed, looking down at Frumpkin and wrapping an arm around the cat. “N-no, it… it is fine.”_ _

__Nott clicked her tongue, shaking her head at the both of them and stood up to start unraveling the ribbons from Caleb's hair. One by one she passed them back to Jester, dangling them over Frumpkin for a moment each time. The cat would paw at ever other one of them and, when Caleb eventually relaxed enough to let him go, followed one along over to Jester._ _

__“How long ago was your visit to Marquet?” Nott asked as she worked._ _

__“Oh, ah, perhaps… eight years ago I think.” Caleb replied. “Before the war had put, ah, put a strain on the empire.”_ _

__“What was it like there?” Jester asked, paying attention to the conversation but mostly playing with the cat._ _

__“Hot.” Caleb replied, shoulders twitching up an instant later at the flippant answer. “B-but it was beautiful, what little I saw of it. We were there for only two days.”_ _

__“That’s a long way to travel for just two days.” Jester snorted._ _

__“I spent much of the journey… ah, studying.” Caleb explained vaguely, fingers running absently along the bandages on one arm. He expected the next question to be that of _why_ they had traveled to Marquet in the first place, though no more questions were forthcoming._ _

__Jester played with Frumpkin until all the ribbons were out of Caleb’s hair, humming to herself all the while. It was relaxing, draining the tension from the wizard as he watched them. Soon the ribbons lay scattered around the cat, Frumpkin sprawled out on his side in front of the cleric. Caleb had a slight smile on his face watching them, hearing Frumpkin’s content purr._ _

__“Would Trent really hurt Frumpkin?” Jester asked, laying on her stomach with her feet kicking lazily in the air. She glanced over at Caleb briefly as she asked though her gaze moved back to the cat._ _

__“Ja.” Caleb answered softly._ _

__“I am very sorry, Caleb.” Jester said sadly. “That’s just awful.”_ _

__“It- it is alright. Ah, he cannot die, he just… goes back to another plane. It is- was, never pleasant, ah, but he is alright now.” He tried to explain, reassure her. It made his heart skip thinking about it, hands shaking. Frumpkin was okay right now, it was _fine_. His friend was lapping up the attention; Frumpkin sprawled out and purring as Jester gently traced the stripes on his fur._ _

__He had tried to protect Frumpkin, always, but he could only take so much. Eventually he had been forced to obey Master Ikithon’s orders, brought Frumpkin to the material plane. Even just thinking about it left him with the urge to click his fingers, vanish Frumpkin safely away._ _

__“Frumpkin is **very** safe here.” Nott assured him, reaching over to pat his hand gently. “We all really like him.”_ _

__“Yes.” Jester said decisively, getting to her feet and stretching. “Frumpkin is the best and we would never hurt him, ever.”_ _

__“Ah… if it- Frumpkin likes you, ah, as well.” Caleb offered, attempting a smile though the expression was unsure and nervous._ _

__Jester made an odd sound, wavering in place for a moment before speaking quickly. “Ohmygosh, Caleb I really just want to hug you right now.”_ _

__After a moment of her just shifting her weight, arms wrapped around herself, Caleb realized that she wasn’t going to. He looked over at Frumpkin, the cat unhelpfully blinking at him slowly as his tail flicked lazily._ _

__Nott got up, heading over and giving Jester a hug before crawling into one of the beds and curling up with, apparently, the intention of getting some sleep. Jester gave Caleb a little forlorn look before trying to arrange the threadbare blankets on the bed to accommodate both her and the goblin._ _

__Silently, Caleb called Frumpkin over, picking the cat up as he stood and shuffled toward the remaining bed. He paused, glancing over as Nott spoke up a muffled “goodnight, Jester” and “goodnight, Caleb” from where she was curled._ _

“Ah… Jester?” Caleb said softly to get the cleric’s attention as he set Frumpkin on his bed. Feeling very anxious and awkward, sure he was doing something wrong even though he _knew_ this was what Jester wanted and what would make her happy, she had just said…

Ignoring the rising anxiety, Caleb extended an arm, moving forward haltingly to give her what was probably the worst hug she had ever experienced. 

__“I hope the Traveler gives you the best dreams tonight.” Jester told him, pulling back after a moment and giving him a bright smile before crawling in bed beside Nott._ _

__Caleb lay in his own bed, curling around Frumpkin as he whispered quietly. “Du auch.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Du auch = You also/You as well
> 
> I feel a little bad because... Caleb is slowly getting more freedom (so to speak) and Fjord is slowly losing his (so to speak). I'm so cruel to these boys.
> 
> Also, thank you to the commenter last chapter who mentioned ribbons. You might not have asked for that tooth rotting adorableness, but you got it anyway.


	79. Chapter 79

It was very late into the morning when Caleb woke, blinking his eyes open to the sunlight shining in through the small window at the corner of the room. Frumpkin was curled close beside him, a calming sight with his nose tucked into his tail as though sleeping, though his ears were alert. Always on guard. Caleb felt a rush of affection, smiling and gently petting Frumpkin’s head.

A light clinking drew his attention, the source being Nott in the corner of the room, tinkering on something quietly. Her back was turned, paying him no attention, and a quick glance showed Jester sprawled out on the other bed still fast asleep. Caleb shifted to sit upright, Frumpkin uncurling himself to climb up Caleb’s arm to his shoulder.

“Good morning, Caleb.” Nott said quietly, glancing over at his movement.

“Good, ah, good morning.” Caleb replied, voice rough still with sleep, feeling a little slow as he automatically took a moment to keep from speaking Zemnian.

“I don’t think anyone else is up yet. If you want, you can go on and have breakfast. I’m going to finish making this.” Nott said after a few moments of silence.

Caleb nodded, glad to have some direction as he hadn’t been certain what was expected of him. Breakfast did sound like a good idea. He made his way out of the room, running into Beauregard in the hallway.

“Hey, Caleb. Just waking up?” Beau asked, giving him a grin.

“Ah…” Caleb began hesitantly, unsure if sleeping in was acceptable or not. Based on what he had seen of her so far, she was very much a morning person, always the first awake and ready to go. “Ja. Yes.”

Some of his reservations must have shown in his expression because Beauregard shook her head, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s fine if you did, bet Jester’s still out, huh?”

Beau smirked at his affirmative nod, jerking her head toward the open archway leading to the open tavern section of the inn. “I just hope Jester didn’t keep you up too late. She can go a little overboard sometimes.”

“N-no, not at all.” Caleb hastened to reassure her, falling in step beside the monk. Despite how nervous he had been the previous evening, it had ended up being… he wouldn’t say fun, exactly, but perhaps informative. Might be ‘fun’ in the future, should Jester care to repeat the exercise, now that he knew what to expect.

“It was nice.” Caleb added, reading disbelief in Beauregard’s lifted eyebrow. “Ah, she put… ribbons in my hair.”

Beau let out a bark of laughter, pulling back a chair at one of the empty tables and sitting down. “Yeah, she does that. I swear, one time she roomed with Yasha and the next morning-“ Beau had to stifle another laugh, looking over at Caleb as he sat down in the chair beside her. “For once, _I_ wasn’t the most insensitive. Molly about died laughing.”

Caleb chanced a smile, letting Frumpkin down from his shoulders. “Ah, I- I can imagine how it might have looked.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it was awesome, they both had a blast from the sound of it.” Beau told him, leaning forward to hold out her hand to Frumpkin as he padded over. She was well aware of Caleb watching her movements closely and she let the fey cat be the one to push against her hand before she gently pet him.

Caleb drew in a nervous breath, choosing his words carefully. Beauregard seemed in a good enough mood, but he could not quell the anxiety of asking her a question. Especially as that question regarded the actions of one of the Nine, and Frumpkin was under her hand currently. “She… she said that it. Ah, it is what one does. At a sleepover. But… she did not do so when it was with you and Molly?”

“I’m not exactly a ribbon person.” Beau snorted, gentling her tone hen Caleb winced slightly. “Besides, after Molly’s hysterics that one time, I can see why she would skip that when it was the four of us.”

“Oh. Ah, thank you, Beauregard.” Caleb replied quietly, petting Frumpkin when the cat returned to him and curled up in his lap.

Beau shrugged, muttering a quiet ‘no problem’ and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence waiting for the rest of the party to show up. The inn wasn’t terribly busy, only a few stragglers from the morning rush still finishing their meals and taking their leave. Beauregard ordered some food when one of the workers came by, a different person than the previous evening and much more accommodating. She shared the majority of the meal with Caleb, the two of them passing the time in easy silence.

The employee of the inn had come and taken the empty plates some time earlier and Beau currently sat leaning on one elbow and flipping halfheartedly through a book. She lifted an eyebrow, glancing at Caleb in confusion as he suddenly clicked his fingers and Frumpkin vanished in an instant. His gaze was focused behind her, though soon dropped to the table. She closed the book, turning to look for what could have possibly worried him and was surprised to see a familiar cobalt blue uniform heading their way.

“Expositor Beauregard?”

Beau leaned back in her chair, balancing it on two legs as she crossed her arms. The monk had approached them with a sort of swagger, too full of himself with an air of smug superiority. Irritating as it was, even the Cobalt Soul had its share of bigoted assholes, though thankfully it was only herself and Caleb at the table right now. Though the look he threw at Caleb was downright _nasty_.

“What.” She barked out, not at all appreciative of his attitude.

“High Curator Yudala requests a meeting with you.” He replied, every bit as sharp as her as he sent another look toward Caleb before focusing his attention on Beauregard. “If you would come with me.”

Beauregard’s chair slammed back down onto the floor from where she had been so casually leaning back. She was too surprised at what this monk had just said to notice the slight flinch from Caleb beside her. Her tone was full of disbelief, eyes narrowed at the other monk. “Bullshit.”

The man snorted, a light smirk playing about his lips as some of the tense distain left him. Beau tensed as his gaze flickered toward Caleb once again. “It’s not. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why.”

Beau frowned, glancing over at Caleb as well. She was definitely not a fan of how he sort of shrank back under her attentions, or how much more comfortable the messenger was; having apparently noticed as well. She could tell what he was thinking, would have though it herself not too long ago. Archmage from the Assembly and Expositor from the Soul working together? This guy was _definitely_ assuming she’d done something to put Caleb in his place.

Which… basically kinda described the first week she’d known Caleb.

Beau grimaced, jerking her head in a nod to the other monk before addressing Caleb. “Hey, let the others know where I went, alright.”

Caleb inclined his head in silent agreement, gaze still focused on the table in front of him. He held carefully still as Beauregard stood, unable to relax even as she walked away with the other monk without another word.

Molly, with Jester and Nott beside him, found Caleb there sometime later; the mage still sitting motionless and quiet alone at the table. Nott had her halfling illusion on and took it upon herself to head over to the innkeeper to order them all some breakfast.

“Where’s Beau?” Molly asked, brow furrowed worriedly as he looked around the inn. He slid into Beau’s abandoned seat, looking at Caleb as he failed to find the monk.

“Ah…s-she was summoned to meet High Curator Yudala.” Caleb answered, gaze flickering over to Jester as she sat at his other side. The sense of relief at having them on either side was unexpected, but no less welcome.

“Are you okay, Caleb? What happened?” Jester asked in concern.

“I have, ah… had dealings with- with the one who came to deliver the message to her.” Caleb answered slowly.

“Something we need to go handle, straighten them out?” Molly asked, smile almost sharp and predatory when Caleb looked over at him.

“N-no, Molly, ple- ah, it- it was a… a long time ago. It is of… of no consequence.” Caleb hurried to assure him, heart skipping at the near dangerous expression on the Tiefling’s face. It soon vanished, Molly’s smile turning apologetic.

“Alright. Sorry, I just-. Let’s change the subject, okay?”

Jester jumped at the chance, launching into a wildly absurd bit of musing as to why Yudala might want to talk to Beau of all people.

Nott soon returned with some food, a little platter of fruits, and an apology that they didn’t have anything else. Jester didn’t seem to mind, simply making plans to find some baked goods for a _real_ breakfast later. Molly leaned back as Jester and Nott shifted the discussion, finally, away from the sensitive topic of the Cobalt Soul. The two of them succeeded in pulling Caleb into the newest topic, which for some reason centered around Marquet of all places. Caleb was hesitant, as always, adding his own opinion, but slowly he was unwinding from the tight anxiety from when Molly and Jester had first joined him.

An hour or so later, Molly’s attention was drawn by Caduceus and Fjord arriving from the hallway from the back of the inn. The two of them passed by the rest of the group, Caduceus giving them all a light greeting on the way to claim an empty table across the way. Fjord was silent and distracted, his falchion hanging at his belt.

“I’ll be right back…” Molly said to the other three, grabbing the abandoned platter of fruit and heading over to join Fjord and Caduceus’ conversation.

“Okay, okay, so!” Jester expression, dropping her voice to an excited whisper as her gaze flickered between Nott and Caleb. “So, we are totally going to go check out that one guy, right? What was his name again?”

“Illiad.” Caleb provided.

“Right, yes. Where does he live at, do you know?” Jester asked.

“Ah… near Master Ikithon’s residence, at the further edge of his properties. He is not the most… skilled mage, but he is… useful to Trent.” Caleb explained.

“Could you go with us, turn yourself and Jester invisible? That way you could show us how to get there.” Nott asked.

“I… could go with you, but I would not be able to cast the invisibility spell on us both.” Caleb told her hesitantly, reluctant to disappoint either of them.

“But we don’t want it to look like we are investigating.” Jester reminded him.

“Ah, y-yes, I know.” Caleb agreed, fully aware of the consequences of that and very grateful they were opposed to risking Ikithon becoming suspicious. “It would- would not be, ah, strange for me to be seen in the Candles. On my own.”

“That might work…. But I don’t want you to have to waste all those spells and then be standing around waiting for us…” Jester considered, thinking for a moment before asking. “Caleb, how long does that invisibility spell of yours last?”

“Ah, one hour.” Caleb answered.

Jester deflated a little. “Oh…”

“Do you- How… how long do you need it to last?”

“Um… I don’t know… Nott, how long do you think it would take to get to-“ She paused, glancing around before lowering her voice to a whisper. “To get to _you know where_.”

“I’m not sure, probably at least thirty minutes if we go straight there. Longer if we have to be sneaky without being invisible.” Nott replied after a moment of thought.

“Okay, so probably would need two, maybe three hours of being invisible?” Jester asked.

“That would give us plenty of time to get in, poke around a little, then get out.” Nott reasoned.

“Yeah, and he’s probably not even home right now, I mean it’s almost the middle of the afternoon. That will make it much easier, you know?” Jester added.

“I…could…” Caleb said slowly, gaze flickering almost guiltily towards Molly. As much as the idea twisted his stomach, he wanted to be useful, to be helpful. He simply wished it would not anger Mollymauk in the process. “The- the most I could, ah, extend the spell would- would be an additional hour.”

Of course, with a concentration spell, there was a possibility the initial casting would fail. He had only two crystals, which limited how many times he would be able to attempt the enhanced spell. It was either this or accompany them and recast the spell when it faded from the cleric, which would lead to far worse. What he had said was true; his being in the Candles would not arouse suspicion, but he would be required to explain himself to Ikithon, would have to report to him in person.

He would gladly shed a little blood to avoid that.


	80. Chapter 80

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally posted it before I was done editing, deleted it, now am reposting it again. Sorry for confusions if you got a notif about a new chapter. 
> 
> Also I believe a warning applies to this chapter:  
> Warning for mild self-harm.

With plans (mostly) well laid out, Nott and Jester headed outside to the side alley next to the inn, Caleb in step behind them. He unwound the clean linen bandages from his left arm as he followed, taking in slow breaths with every step. It would be fine; he could do this. It was one spell and one spell only.

He had offered, they had accepted. It was one spell, there would be an end to it. They were not Ikithon with a seemingly endless amount of crystals. They would not strap him down, demanding spell after spell, multiple crystals digging into his arms as he cast again and again until they had all shattered and blood dripped in rivers onto the floor beneath him.

Nott and Jester were speaking, reviewing plans probably, but Caleb could barely hear them through the static of his own thoughts. What was he _doing_? Molly would be angry, so angry, would not approve. But Caleb knew it was important that these two have a chance to find some evidence. If it would damn Trent, drag him from the seat of power and favor he held, Caleb would do everything he could to support that effort. Even if he angered the majority of the Nine in the process. It would be worth the consequences if only for that chance.

Methodically, he retrieved the gum arabic and the crystal shard. He began the spell, rolling the arabic in his palm, spreading it with the back of the hand that held the crystal. Once the arcane energy had begun building, the arabic drying and flaking as the spell began to consume the component, Caleb took the crystal in his hand and drove it into his bared forearm.

Blood welled from where the crystal dug under his skin, Caleb gritting his teeth as he muttered the final few words of incantation for the spell. His hand warmed with arcane energy, ready to be released into whatever target he touched. His arm was on _fire_ , pain lancing through every nerve as he attempted to fix the incantation in his mind.

It didn’t take long for Jester to notice, her mouth dropping open in shock as she froze for a moment.

“ _Caleb_!” Jester shrieked, eyes widening in alarm. “What are you doing!? Stop!”

Her near shouted order, as well as the pain; the fear and unease at what he _knew_ most any but perhaps Fjord would disapprove of, was enough to break the concentration of the invisibility spell. The arcane energy slipped from his control, shattering the crystal and cutting three jagged lines in varying directions on his arm before dissipating.

Jester took two quick steps toward him, hand already glowing with divine magic as she reached for him.

Caleb forced himself to remain still, eyes closing as he waited for the correction; he had _failed_ , had wasted the crystal. Worse, had defied their wishes knowing full well they would disapprove. He’d wanted to help, to be useful. The sharp pain in his arm soon vanished, however, in the scent of cinnamon as Jester’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Caleb, why would you- That’s not- I didn’t-“ Jester sounded increasingly distressed as she searched fruitlessly for words to say.

“I a-am fine. It- it is not that bad. If you would allow-“ Caleb began, though Jester soon cut him off. She did not sound angry yet, but the distress was clear in her voice. If she would only let him try again, he could- no, he _would_ succeed. It was such a small price.

“Caleb, no! I didn’t know that’s what you meant by extending the spell!! You don’t have to! Why don’t you just come with us, you said it wouldn’t be a big deal, it’s got to be better than hurting yourself!” Jester demanded.

“This- this is safer. Painful, yes, but no more so than speaking to Ikithon would be.” Caleb reasoned, trying to stay calm and not let the anxiety cause his voice to shake. He had never seen Jester so upset, was terrified it would turn to anger soon enough. “Will- will you allow me to try again?”

“Why would you need to go talk to Trent?” Nott asked, watching Caleb with worried eyes. “You said it wouldn’t be suspicious if you were over there.”

“Suspicious, no. But word would reach him, he would want to know why. There are… numerous reasons I could- could come up with as to why I had been sent to see him.” Caleb explained quickly. “W-whichever you- you prefer, I will make sure he d-does not suspect you. Any of you, I promise.”

“What, so, if you come with us you have to go see Trent. If you make the spell last long enough you have to hurt yourself??” Jester asked shrilly.

“Maybe we just shouldn’t go at all…” Nott said, glancing between the two of them.

“But you wish to go, you may find something useful, some evidence.” Caleb reminded them.

“Why not just do the normal spell, and we’ll try to get in and out before it runs out?” Nott offered.

“If…if you wish.” Caleb agreed, dropping his gaze. It was so risky though, if he could just convince them... “But if- if you are caught… seen… p-please… Please allow me to caste the enhanced spell. I will ask Caduceus if he will heal the damage if you wish.”

“Caleb….”

“Please, Jester. I will- I will be fine. I… I want to. Please?”

Jester groaned in frustration. This wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair at all! She knew he would listen to her if she said no, he _always_ did what they told him to. Even when they weren’t even _trying_ to tell him what to do. But if she agreed, it was like she was saying it was _okay_ for him to be hurt. And they were always saying to him ‘if you want to’ and it really really wasn’t cool him using that back at her asking for her to let him hurt himself.

Jester sniffled, reaching up to wipe her eyes. Her voice was watery as she spoke, throat tight. “Okay. If you want to. But you have to _promise_ it won’t hurt you that bad and you have to _promise_ to go to Caduceus right away so he can heal you, okay?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I promise.” Caleb agreed quickly, hurrying to pull out the components and the last crystal. “Thank you, Jester.”

“Oh, Caleb. Please don’t thank me for this.” Jester requested morosely.

~~

Fjord didn’t look happy when Molly joined him and Caduceus, but Fjord never looked happy anymore so Molly didn’t take it personally. He pulled up a chair beside Caduceus, leaning his elbow on the table as he tilted his head to look at Fjord.

“If you’re going to yell at me, could we just skip to the part where I agree with you and apologize?” Fjord sighed tiredly.

Molly’s eyebrows rose, not expecting the complete surrender in Fjord’s tone. “Alright, apology accepted then. What’s going on though? You never have your sword out. I’ll admit, I’m curious.”

“What, nervous?” Fjord scoffed, attempting a smirk, though it just turned into a bitter grimace as he looked away.

“Yes, actually. Seriously. How worried do I need to be?” Molly asked, not rising to the bait this time. Something was very wrong, enough that the two of them had been hiding away in their room for basically the entire morning.

“Good morning. Where are they going? Where is Beau?” Yasha asked them as she walked over and took a chair, eyes following Jester, Nott, and Caleb as they left.

Molly glanced over at them as well, giving a shrug. “Yesterday, Jester and Nott were talking about sneaking around invisible. My guess is that. And Beau got called back to the Cobalt Soul, apparently the High Curator needed to talk to her.” Molly explained, filling all three of them in at once.

“Why would the High Curator want to talk to Beau?” Fjord questioned.

Molly shrugged. “No idea.”

“Yudala probably knows Caleb was sent to join us. Do you think they will want to talk to him, like Dairon?” Yasha wondered.

“Seems odd for someone that high up to send a messenger to Beau only to turn around and ask Beau to come back and bring Caleb. You would think she would just send a messenger directly to Caleb. He’s not exactly unknown.” Caduceus said reasonably.

“if we could circle back around.” Fjord interrupted before the topic could get too lost, glancing between Molly and Yasha. “I actually have a favor to ask you two.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Molly said with interest, though slightly apprehensive at the flat look Caduceus sent Fjord’s way.

“If I start doing something that’s a little bit… I don’t know…evil? Could you just stop me and not ask stupid questions like ‘are you okay’?” Fjord requested.

“Fjord, I don’t think that’s-“

“I was standing there with my sword in my hand, you didn’t even do anything, what happens if I attack you next time?” Fjord snapped out in a hushed whisper. “At least Molly or Yasha would have their own weapons, you didn’t even look like you were going to fight back!”

“I was planning on blinding you if you took a swing, if that makes you feel better.” Caduceus said with a sort of shrug and a wry smile.

“Hey, I can do that too.” Molly added, leaning forward with his chin in his palm. “And, yes, Fjord, I will happily keep you from doing evil things. Yasha will too. Right Yash?”

“Of course.” Yasha agreed, though her tone was more somber. “Is it getting that bad?”

“Maybe… I don’t know.” Fjord admitted, then went on to explain the details of what had happened the previous evening.

“Is he watching us right now then?” Yasha asked once he had finished, brow furrowed as she looked at the blade.

“I honestly don’t know.” Fjord answered.

Molly sat up suddenly, muscles tight with tension as he struggled to stay in his seat. He could smell the blood before he saw it; red soaking into a linen cloth, the hand holding the bandage also bloodied. Caleb had walked back inside the inn, was heading over towards their table. What the hell had happened? Caleb had been with Nott and Jester, there was no _way_ between the three of them there was any issue they couldn’t deal with. Or at least deal with and make a loud enough noise the rest of them could show up to help. If nothing else, they could get away from nearly anything; Molly knew for a fact both Caleb and Jester knew the dimension door spell.

Caleb didn’t look at any of them as he came to a stop next to their table, angling his body towards Caduceus as he spoke gently, a slight quiver to his voice. “Ah… C-Caduceus… m-may I- ah…”

“Mister Caleb, how can I help you?” Caduceus asked evenly, tone calming.

“W-would you- If… if I may, would y-you ple- ah…” Caleb drew in a slow breath, unsure how to ask because he had never requested a cleric heal him before. But he had promised Jester he would. “If it..is not too much trouble, could I… could you… heal me?”

Caleb winced at the blunt question, shoulders lifting defensively as he instinctively prepared for disapproval, anger, or refusal. He was interrupting them, had upset Jester; it be of little surprise to be sent away.

“Certainly.” Caduceus answered evenly. “Molly, do you mind…?”

“Yeah, here.” Molly agreed, standing up and waving Caleb over to his seat. “Have a seat.”

Caleb tried not to cringe as he passed by Molly to sit where directed, too afraid to look at the Tiefling’s expression. There had been a tension in his voice when he spoke, a tension that seemed to radiate throughout the blood hunter. Caleb trembled as he offered his arm to Caduceus, still not meeting any of their gazes.

Caduceus’ touch was gentle; removing the blood-soaked bandage as his hands began to glow with a gentle green light.

Fjord was the one to ask. “What happened?”

Molly frowned at the warlock but didn’t say anything as he tried _not_ to hover over Caleb. He was curious ~~worried and upset~~ and wanted to know what had happened as well.

“Jester and Nott have gone to investigate Illiad. They needed to be invisible for two hours and the duration of the spell is normally one hour.” Caleb explained tonelessly, eyes focused almost blankly on Caduceus’ hand tracing gently across the quickly healing gashes on his arm. “I used the crystals to extend the spell to the time frame needed.”

Caleb’s gaze flickered up briefly to Fjord, voice taking on a strained fear as he added. “It is a- a concentration spell, that- t-that component remains the same.”

“You said those things could kill you…” Fjord stated with a frown, watching as the light faded from Caduceus’ hands.

“Fjord, you alright?” Caduceus asked, glancing at the warlock.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Fjord said, closing his eyes briefly as he shook his head. He was still focused on Caleb as he opened them again, brow furrowing. “I’m just surprised Jester let you do that.”

“S-she was not- she gave me permission.” Caleb answered shakily.

Well that didn’t sound right _at all_ , though Molly wasn’t about to press Caleb about it. He was obviously worried about being punished, why else would he remind Fjord that it was a concentration spell. Molly could easily read the 'I have to keep this up for Jester, please don't hurt me right now' in that warning. Molly figured he would be better off just asking Jester and Nott later when they got back.

“There, you’re all set.” Caduceus said to Caleb, letting go of his arm.

“Ah, thank- thank you.” Caleb replied before glancing briefly up at Molly to ask. “M-molly, may- may I stay in your room? For- for now?”

“Yeah, sure, go for it.” Molly agreed, watching as Caleb stood and gave a slight formal bow towards them before retreating back into the hallway.

Yeah, that was all just too strange and, much as he wanted to go have a conversation with Caleb about what had happened, it didn’t seem like now was the time. He got the sense Caleb wanted a minute or two alone, and that was fine. He turned back to the others, forcing himself to relax.

“Okay, Jester and Nott are off on their own adventure for the next few hours, Beau is going to see Yudala. What are _we_ doing?”


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and next chapter, it’s a little squirrely the flow of time. But it’s all in the same day, so it’s fine…right?
> 
> Also, Yudala is agender (according to Crit Role Wiki which is where I get the majority of the info on character’s I’m not super familiar with), so hopefully I didn’t screw that up anywhere. A thousand apologies if I did, point out where and I shall fix it.

Beau had been about right in her estimation of how infuriating this guy would be. He hadn’t shut up the entire walk towards the Cobalt Soul. It was informative, sure, but it was a shit load of information she regretted ever learning.

She got his name, Brethas Rorag, a long winded explanation of how he’d proven himself during the war, his efforts to climb the social ladder in court, how he _still_ hadn’t been made an Expositor yet. It was exhausting, tested the limits of her ability to resist punching him just to shut him up, but Yudala had sent him, so she held back.

Her resolve almost broke when the subject of Caleb was brought up.

“Bet it was probably nice hearing you were getting another Empire representative in that group of demons. What a disappointment it was a mage though, huh? How long it take you to wipe that smug superiority?” Brethas laughed, glancing over at Beau and frowning. “Or is he still as much of a pain in the ass as ever?”

“He doesn’t cause any problems.” Beau answered, rolling her shoulders and trying to play it off.

Brethas seemed to accept the answer, looking forward again. “I don’t know how you do it, staying with them. Must be easier now though, you got some entertainment.”

“You realize him being with us is part of the treaty, right?” Beau asked.

Brethas shrugged. “Of course. But there’s this little thing called training, you can do fucking anything. I’ve trained with your new mage a few times in the past.”

Beau took a moment, considering how satisfying it would be to just deck this asshole right here. She could find Yudala on her own, no problem, she didn’t need a guide, and it wasn’t like she’d never annoyed the High Curator before. And Brethas was really starting to piss her off. Except…

If he’d trained with Caleb, that probably meant he was close to Trent, or at least worked with the Assembly (despite his pissy attitude toward mages). And he’d called the rest of the Nine demons, which put him even further on the ‘Ikithon’ side of dickery. Who knows what else he might let slip, he certainly talked enough…

Quelling the urge to throw a fist into his smug, dumb ass face, Beauregard made a show of looking him over, then put on a slight smirk. “I guess it is kinda fun. Can you believe he went nearly twenty four hours didn’t say a word to me, then first time he talks, he’s pointing out all the things wrong.”

Brethas snorted, lips twitching into a grin. “Typical. Nothing’s ever perfect enough for them. Too bad we don’t get private training sessions anymore. It was always satisfying to show them some humility. Nothing ever seemed to phase your guy, but I made him cry once, that was highlight.”

Beau had to bite her tongue, forcing a choked laugh. Thankfully, and also regretfully, Brethas didn’t notice and, having warmed to a topic he seemed to favor, proceeded to recall the various time’s he had the privilege of sparring, fighting, or otherwise just ‘serving up some humility’ to the stuck up mages of the Cerberus Assembly.

Gods she hoped it hadn’t always been Caleb… and she felt fucking sorry for whoever _else_ it had been. Yeah, she’d had her own run ins with mages while training here in Rexxentrum; mostly just a couple of bar fights that got out of hand, but so long as nobody died and no property was damaged (too damaged anyway) no one got in trouble. It was just… what the students of each faction did.

But she never took _pleasure_ in it beyond the thrill of winning a fight. But this asshole… apparently, he had picked by the Assembly to give ‘private’ lessons sometimes. Like she couldn’t see through that easy enough... From the sound of it, he hadn’t been given that opportunity since the war got into full swing, and back when he had the request had only come from one person.

His stories became less boastful as they reached the Cobalt Soul, soon tapering into silence as they entered the main archive. Brethas led the way up the staircase, leading her to the High Curator’s office and knocking lightly on the door and entering as a voice bid them.

Inside was High Curator Yudala Fon, a middle-aged half-elf with robes elaborate and immaculate as benefited their station. Their short cropped red hair fell just long enough to cover the slight point of their ears. Yudala stood near a hearth, book in hand, as the Beauregard and Brethas entered. Yudala turned to face them, closing the book and returning their formal bows of greeting with a slight inclination of the head.

Beauregard waiting until Brethas had turned to leave, the door closing behind him before she crossed her arms and bluntly asked. “What the hell is up with _that_ guy?”

Surprisingly, Yudala smiled in amusement. “Why don’t you enlighten me? What is your opinion of him?”

“He’s-.” Beau paused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Yudala. She wasn’t sure the reasoning, but Yudala obviously knew of Brethas’ flaws. They had sent him anyway and Beau had a suspicious it was really just a test. Fucking tests. Better this than bringing Caleb here though. It really wouldn’t go well if Beau tried to deck the High Curator. And she would, High Curator or not, if they tried to so much as _touch_ Caleb. Dairon had done enough damage on her own.

“Untrustworthy. Talks too much. Takes pleasure in hurting other people.” Beau reported in a clipped tone. “Not exactly the posterchild for what we stand for.”

“I’m impressed he made it here whole. You have made remarkable progress.”

“Thanks…” Beau said, suspicion all but confirmed. Fucking. Tests. “But I don’t think you called me here to report on something you already know.”

“You are correct, I have not.” Yudala admitted easily, waving a hand in invitation for Beau to sit on one of the chairs by the fire. Yudala took the seat opposite, laying the book they had held on the table beside the chair. Yudala continued speaking once Beauregard was situated. “Dairon informed me of your meeting with her, the conversation she had with Archmage Widowgast.”

“I’m not bringing Caleb here.” Beau refused automatically.

“I had no intentions of asking you to. Such would only undermine what you are trying to do. What we both wish to accomplish. Tell me, do you truly trust him?”

Beauregard pressed her lips together, biting back a snarky comment. She didn’t read any distain in Yudala’s tone, only a neutral respect as they had used Caleb’s rank and title. “Yes, I do.”

“You have not known him long, and he has worked under Trent for the majority of his life.” Yudala informed her.

“No offense, but from what I hear, you’ve been having issues with his former teacher. Is that the kind of guy you think inspires loyalty?” Beau replied. She wasn’t going to air out all of the reasons _why_ she trusted Caleb.

“I think he inspires fear, which is a powerful motivator.” Yudala answered, leaning back with a light sigh. “He had been trying to discredit you. As well as the rest of your group, though most recently he has focused on you.”

Beau grimaced but nodded. “I’d been told that was part of his plan, more or less. Though it was just going to be at the King’s party though.”

Yudala’s eyebrows rose in slight surprise, but they did not question Beauregard’s knowledge. “Perhaps that might have been the original intention, but it appears that he doesn’t want anyone to trust what you say or do, claiming Xhorhasian influences have… given you bias.”

“That could be a problem.” Beau said, shaking her head. “We’ve come across a few things that could make a case-“ Beau stopped as Yudala held up a hand.

“Best if you keep such information to yourself for now.” Yudala advised.

“Okay… Do you have a solution for the problem then?“

“That is why I have asked you here. I suggest you stay at the Cobalt Soul for the next few days. Let some of the rumors Ikithon has spread die.”

“How’s that going to fix anything?” Beau questioned.

“Those at court will see you here, away from those who they have been raised to mistrust. Remind them where you affiliations lay; they will see that as proof your loyalty is to the Empire. This peace is fragile, even rumours threaten it.” Yudala explained. “Ikithon’s influence unbalances the division of power, undermining the King and myself. We cannot afford for him to pull the nobility to his side.”

Seeing Beauregard’s skepticism, Yudala added as an incentive. “I would have much I could teach you in the meantime.”

A smirk curled slowly across Beau’s face. “Can I pick a sparring partner?”

~~

“Jester, are you okay?” Nott asked, for the fourth time since they’d left Caleb back at the inn.

Her answer was the same as each time, a quiet sniffle followed by a thick “yeah, I’m okay” that Nott in no way believed was the truth at all.

“Because, I know you can’t see me, both of us being invisible, but…I’m right here, if you want to talk about it.” Nott offered, casting around blindly until she found Jester and held her hand.

They both had to be quiet for a moment, passing by some guards as they entered the Candles district. It was another block before Jester spoke, tone quiet and subdued. “Do you think he thought he had to do that? Was it something I said?”

“He said he wanted to help; it wasn’t your fault.”

“But he didn’t’ have to do _that_.” Jester insisted, sniffling again. “He doesn’t like those crystals, he was so scared in that cave with them all, and when he first showed them to us…”

“Yes, but when he had to use them before it wasn’t his choice.”

“Oh, come on Nott, you really think he wanted to?” Jester snarked quietly, hopping over the low stone wall that bordered Trent’s property from the main street.

Nott followed suite, sounding unperturbed by Jester question. “Maybe not, but it _did_ sound like he wanted us to try and find something here. And maybe he thought this was just the best way to do it. When Molly uses some of his abilities, it hurts him a little. This isn’t that different.”

“…maybe…” Jester said, reluctant but also sounding a lot less guiltily miserable than she had moments ago.

They two of them were quiet again, following the directions Caleb had given them as they walked sneakily through the grounds. There were quite a few buildings surrounding the mage’s tower, all in a variety of sizes. They hoped they had found the right one as they reached the end of where Caleb had told them to go.

In front of them was a modest (for the area) dwelling that was built pressed against north eastern wall that separated the Shimmer Ward from the rest of the city. Jester followed Nott’s light footsteps up to the door, waiting patiently as the goblin inspected it.

Within a matter of minutes, they were inside, creeping silently though the entryway. The interior was surprisingly plain, nothing ornate or wealthy about the house. A flight of stairs lay about ten feet in, leading straight up and turning to lead to the second floor.

Nott shut the door behind them quietly, locking it back again. She was just in time, no sooner had the door clicked shut then a servant rounded the corner atop the stairs, peering down in confusion.

Jester and Nott moved aside as the human came down the stairs and moved to the door, unlocking it and poking their head out to look around. Seeing nothing, they shrugged, closing and locking the door and going back about their business.

“That was close.” Jester whispered once they human had vanished back upstairs. “We should probably start down here, try and find his office or something.”

“Keep an eye out for traps.” Nott advised, though thought it was unlikely there would be any if Illiad had servants wandering his home.

“Oh, good idea. If we find traps, we know we found something _good_.” Jester agreed. She was determined to find _something_. Caleb had used those crystals he hated so much, so the least they could do was make it worth it.


	82. Chapter 82

Nott and Jester returned to the inn hours later both looking disappointed and, in Jester’s case, absolutely crestfallen. The blue Tiefling marched right to her room and shut herself inside, not sparing a glance for anyone.

“Bad news?” Molly guessed, looking up at Nott when the goblin joined him. She had her hood up, ceramic mask in place, and he guessed she run out of spells to disguise herself or be invisible.

“We didn’t find anything. She’s upset because Caleb had used those crystals for nothing.” Nott told him.

“It was a long shot anyway. No one saw you right?” Molly sighed. He leaned on the table, poking at the tarot cards laid out. They weren’t much of a distraction right now, but it was better than nothing.

“No one saw us.” Nott assured him.

Molly nodded in acknowledgement. “Too bad Jester didn’t stop to say hi. I’m sure hearing we got invited to a banquet would have cheered her up.”

“I’d wait until the morning to tell her. She was pretty upset.” Nott advised. She frowned, looking around the near empty room, the bartender the only other one there. “Where is everyone?”

“Caleb’s hanging out in my room, Yash went to talk to him a while ago. Fjord and Caduceus are in their room, and Beau hasn’t come back yet.” Molly listed out, grimacing.

“Is Caleb alright?”

“Cad healed him, but other than that… what happened anyway? He said Jester gave him permission?” Molly asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

“Caleb said he could make the spell last two hours, neither of us realized what that meant until he’d already stabbed himself with the first crystal.” Nott said defensively, pulling out her flask and unscrewing the top. She swirled it around for a moment, frowning. “Jester told him to stop when she saw him bleeding, it was very upsetting, and she healed the cuts. He didn’t want us to not go, and it really would have been difficult getting in and out in under an hour, coming with us meant he would have to go see Ikithon apparently…”

“Oh, for-“

“At least he didn’t volunteer for that, though I’m worried he might not have told us he would have to do that at all…” Nott said, taking a sip from her flask. “Because he said it wouldn’t be suspicious if he was seen alone in that area, so he could have come with us and just recast the normal spell like I did.”

Molly groaned, folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them. “Someone please teach this wizard the fine art of fucking _self-preservation_.”

Gods, he couldn’t _wait_ for this week to be over. He was really beginning to hate politics and wished very much that Beau and Caleb didn’t care so much about the Empire and that they could all just fuck off and let Ikithon take over and drive it into the ground. The world was a big place, they could find work pretty much anywhere if they looked hard enough.

Except that wouldn’t be fair to the majority of the Dwendalians, people who just wanted to live their lives in peace and not hurt anyone. Kiri and her new family in Hupperdook, the variety of towns and villages that had been accommodating to a group of mostly non humans… It was the ones who hadn’t done anything wrong that would be the first to suffer, to die, if Trent declared the war continue on Xhorhas. And if he managed to piss off the nations across the ocean, a likely occurrence thanks to his little hoard of crystals under the palace, war might happen whether Trent gained power to continue his crusade against Xhorhas in the first place.

Why was the right thing to do never the _easy_ thing to do…

“Well, he did pick the less painful option.” Nott continued, offering Molly her flask. “And like I told Jester, some of your abilities hurt you when you use them, but you still do it. This wasn’t too much different.”

“I hate that logic.” Molly grumbled, lifting his head to glare at her as he accepted the flask and took a drink. “Did it make Jester feel any better?”

“Not really.”

Molly snorted, handing the flask back before starting to pick up his tarot cards and put them away. It had been, for him, a long boring dull day. Most people coming into the inn had ignored him, a few had let him read their fortunes with his cards, but mostly he’d just been holding down the fort. There was probably quite a few hours left before dark, but he still had no idea what to do with himself.

Getting out of this place seemed a good start.

Now that he’d passed on where everyone was, what had happened… he needed some air.

~~

Caleb curled himself into the far corner of the room, the lone bed half blocking his view of the door. He didn’t deserve to sit on the bed, wouldn’t dare attempt to claim the coats and blankets laid out as a makeshift bedroll against the opposite wall. He summoned Frumpkin, hugging the cat to himself as he counted down the minutes the spell would last. He would be fine until then, at least. They did not want Ikithon to suspect them, they would not risk Jester and Nott being found if he lost concentration on the spell.

As expected, Molly was angry. Caleb couldn’t quite determine whether Fjord was upset or not. Jester _had_ given him permission to use they crystal, but he had attempted to do so before she had said it was okay. Except, Fjord wouldn’t know that until Jester returned and informed him. If he was not angry now, he would likely be upset later.

He wondered if Mollymauk was angry enough to let Fjord discipline him. He could only assume Molly would enact his own brand of discipline, leaving Caleb isolated until he had learned his lesson. Yes, Molly had said they weren’t doing that as a punishment on the journey to Zadash, but Caleb had made it clear that was an _effective_ disciplinary tactic, unintentional though that had been. It made no sense for Molly _not_ to use it when he was so angry.

Would Jester be mollified with whatever correction the others dealt him? She had been upset, but he knew that would have turned to anger by the time she returned. He’d defied her, had insisted on them following his own plan, had disregarded Nott’s suggestion completely. Perhaps they would both be angry with him.

Frumpkin wriggled in his arms, pressing close and rubbing his head under Caleb’s chin as he purred loudly. Caleb buried his face in the cat’s fur, breath hitching at he tried to keep control over himself. He couldn’t afford to be so weak right now, not when he was already in trouble.

Beauregard had not been here, at least, to get angry at him. She had gone to meet with Curator Yudala. Except…

Except what if she returned as she had last time, requesting he go with her to… to ‘speak’ with Yudala. The others would agree, whether because of their own irritation with him or simply to not offend one of the more powerful people in the city, but they would agree.

And Master Ikithon had _hated_ Yudala. Caleb had always been under the impression the feeling was mutual. Dairon had shown him no leniency, he could expect no less (and a great deal worse) from the leader of the Cobalt Soul. Yudala would know who his master had been, would take advantage of his new allegiance, Beau would not step in this time, she would-

Caleb jumped as Frumpkin nipped at his chin, purring and butting his head against him a moment later. “Ja…ja, I’m fine.” He muttered. He was fine, though time was slowly running out. Had Jester and Nott found anything? Would it matter if they did… Jester had _cried_ … because of him…

Fjord had known Jester hadn’t wanted him to use the crystal, he’d said as much. Molly must have realized as well, even though he’d told them Jester had said it was okay. They would realize Jester was upset… Even if Jester would not discipline him for that, would Fjord or Molly? Would-

The two hours were at an end.

He hoped Jester and Nott had finished what they had hoped to accomplish, gotten out of Ikithon’s properties unnoticed. He would be first to know if they had not, Ikithon would demand answers. More pressing, however, was the Nine’s current displeasure. It was only a matter of time now. They may not be able to keep as close track as he could, but they would eventually realize the spell had ended, that he need not keep concentration any longer.

Time passed, longer than he had anticipated, but eventually there was a knock at the door.

Caleb drew in a steadying breath as he dismissed Frumpkin, not wanting to take any chances. He pushed himself to his feet, back pressed against the wall as he tried to make himself move forward. When the door cracked open, it was Yasha’s pale figure that peered in, eyes scanning the room to land upon him. “Caleb? Can I come in?”

“Of course, Yasha.” Calab agreed automatically, stepping forward carefully to the center of the room. He kept his eyes down, hands folded obediently behind him as Yasha entered the room and closed the door behind her.

“Are you okay? I know Caduceus healed you, but… You’re okay?” Yasha asked in her unique gentle tone.

Caleb looked up at her in confusion, the conversation starting a completely different way than he’d imagined. Though, he hadn’t imagined it would be Yasha in the first place. “I am, yes.”

“Good. That is…good.” Yasha nodded, pausing for a moment. “That was very brave what you did. I know… you seem very nervous about those crystals, so I just think it was very brave. Using one to help Jester.”

What? Caleb tilted his head, brow furrowing in confusion. Of all the things he thought might happen (Fjord coming to discipline him or perhaps Molly leaving him on his own until his anger had subsided), Yasha coming and giving him what sounded only like praise was NOT anywhere in the realm of possibilities he’d considered.

“Two.” Caleb corrected unthinking, his thoughts still trying to catch up to this change in how he thought this would go. He flushed red a moment later, quickly continuing to explain at Yasha’s confused expression. “I- the first cast failed. I used both crystals.”

“Oh. That is okay.” Yasha said, apparently not at all upset over the failure. She nodded toward one of the beds before asking. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Oh, of- of course. I am sorry, I did not mean to, ah, to be rude.” Caleb stammered, stepping back and extending a hand in an almost courtly invitation. It felt awkward, but no less than Yasha asking him permission for something. It all made no sense, so he fell back on his training, formal deference.

Caleb was too nervous, skittish about drawing too close, to sit beside Yasha on the bed. He remained standing instead, feeling awkward and worried, waiting for the other shoe to drop as he looked anywhere but at Yasha.

“Oh, no, you are not rude at all.” Yasha assured as she sat down.

Caleb closed his eyes for a moment, some of the tension easing at Yasha’s continued calm tone.

“I know… Jester was probably upset.” Yasha continued. “Molly wanted me to tell you… no one is angry. You did not do anything wrong.”

Caleb’s brow furrowed, one hand moving to trace the new pink lines on his arm. Didn’t do anything wrong? He had done many things wrong. “He was angry though…” Caleb pointed out, heart pounding as he disagreed with Yasha. That had not ended well last time.

“He is not angry with you. It is only… he does not like to see you hurt. None of us do.” Yasha replied easily.

It took a moment, but Caleb managed to make himself move forward in slow steps. He was shaking as he sat carefully beside Yasha, every instinct screaming this was a bad **bad** idea. “S-sometimes… I- I c-can believe that…”

“It is okay. If you don’t, I mean.” Yasha advised softly. “I think you are trying. And you are doing very well.”

Caleb nodded, risking a glance at her after a moment. Yasha’s gaze wasn’t focused on him, instead fixed on the little makeshift bedroll. The tremors subsided, Caleb’s heartbeat slowing to a more normal pace. The two of them sat in silence for a while, Caleb relaxing by degrees with each passing moment.

A while later they heard footsteps in the hall, light and quick, then a slamming door. Caleb would guess Jester and Nott had returned, by the sound of it not with good news. He felt a twist of guilt and disappointment; guilt at having upset Jester for nothing, disappointment that the two had found nothing.

“Do you want to stay here? With Molly and Beau tonight? Or with Jester and Nott again?” Yasha asked, looking over at him. “You can stay with me if you want to, or if you want the room by yourself, I can stay with Molly and Beau.”

“I don’t-“ Caleb paused, shoulders tensing. “I d-don’t want to be alone, p-please.”

Yasha nodded calmly. “Okay.”

“Would- c-could you stay here? With… Molly and Beauregard? And… a-and myself?” Caleb asked, adding quickly. “If they are- are okay with that.”

Yasha smiled at him. “I would like that very much. Thank you, Caleb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb is trying very hard, but he is having a not so great day on this day.


	83. Chapter 83

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off going one direction, but I didn’t like it.  
> So, I changed it a bit and it just snowballed…
> 
> ENJOY!

Yasha only left for a brief few minutes, going to pass along the sleeping arrangements for the evening. When she returned, the two of them sat mostly in silence, speaking about nothing of consequence in the few moments of conversation. Yasha didn’t seem to mind silence and, after a while, Caleb was able to almost relax in the undemanding quiet. The anxiety remained, the worry and unease, but it was not as pressing and all consuming as earlier.

Sleep snuck up on him. One moment he was sitting leaned against the wall on the bed, the next he was home again, sitting with his parents, Ikithon absent for once. It was the only time Ikithon had not monitored the visit; his last visit.

_”I wish you could come see us more often, Bren.”_

_Guilt suffocated him. His mother was so proud of him, missed him terribly, but was proud still. His father’s smile was bitter sweet, similarly as proud but there was an undercurrent of worry. Bren knew why. He was thin, pale, far too quiet; a stark contrast to the curious, ever questioning child he had been._

_If they knew… He couldn’t tell them all the things he had done, what he had been learning. They would be horrified. **He** was horrified._

_He had always thirsted for knowledge, been driven by a curiosity to learn, to unravel the mysteries of the arcane. To bend reality to his will, to make the world better…_

_Instead…_

_Instead, Master had taught him how to interrogate; how to bend and break a mind, how to push the limits of pain and suffering while still maintaining life. Master had taught him how to kill; both quickly, with little pain, and slowly, each breath of the subject a drawn-out labor of agony._

_Bren had learned his lesson well, hadn’t disobeyed that order after the first time._

_“I as well, mother.” He replied, lips curling into the first smile in what felt like months, perhaps longer. It was a thin ghost of what it could have been, no joy in the expression. He loved them, missed them… but he wasn’t the same anymore. He would never be the same._

_“Your birthday is coming soon. Twenty years, has it really been so long?” His mother asked, smiling fondly._

_~~-get us the guard schedule? Layout of the castle?~~ _

_He closed his eyes, shaking his head. That… that wasn’t right… they hadn’t…_

_~~-had enough. King Dwendal isn’t fit to rule~~ _

_New memories over old, clinging like ghosts over what had been such an innocent conversation. He was never supposed to fight back, was never supposed to challenge his Master. Ikithon’s spell met no resistance in him. **Traitors**_

_It was difficult to draw breath, the air thick and cloying._

_“They are traitors, deal with them.”_

_Flames crackled in the night air, screams piercing through the roar of the inferno. Ikithon’s orders rang in his ears as the fire that was his home raged. His mouth was full of ash as they burned and screamed, the best of him turning to nothing but dying cinders drowning in a sea of blood._

_**Deal with them** _

_A man bound on his knees, bruised and burned, jagged cuts on his body. Bren couldn’t do it, his hand lifted but unable to cast the spell. He was barely past the age of majority, he couldn’t do this…_

_**They are traitors, deal with them.** _

_He couldn’t. Eodwulf stepped forward, finishing what Bren could not._

_**Useless failure**._

_Bren’s own voice joined the pained cries as he thrashed against the bindings holding him down, blood hot as acid dripping down his arms. If he would not dispose of the traitors, he would be useful another way.  
_

Caleb woke to the sound of the door shutting, his heart skipping though he remained still. He didn’t want to go; shivered in fearful anticipation. Trent had thousands of crystals, Caleb had _seen_ them, there would be no end. Just pain and the struggle not to break, shatter like those green shards as they ripped jagged lines in his skin.

His heart was in his throat as footsteps moved closer and he _couldn’t move_. The soft sound was accompanied by an even softer jangle of jewelry. Jewelry? Ikithon did not-

The slow shuffle of feet paused and there was a long silence. When they moved again, it was towards Yasha over on the makeshift bedroll on the floor. Panic filled his chest; Trent hated those not human, he would hurt her, might _kill_ her. He tried to get his limbs to move, to _do_ something, but Yasha’s whispered words, slow with sleep, halted him. “Molly?”

“I see you gave my bed away.” Molly teased, voice also a quiet whisper.

Relief flooded Caleb, almost drawing a sob from between his clenched teeth. Molly. Not Trent. Yasha was safe, it was okay.

“I would have told you, but you had gone.”

“Needed a walk. Scoot, I don’t wanna wake Caleb.”

“It is very late. Where were you?”

It was late, Caleb realized. Only three hours until the sun rose again, and Molly was only just returning? If Yasha’s confused tone was anything to go by, this wasn’t something Molly did often.

“Walking.” Molly answered sassily amid the quiet noise of them shuffling around to get comfortable. “Accidentally discovered there’s a curfew. Almost got arrested.”

There was a long silence again and Caleb could only guess Yasha was giving Molly a disapproving look. He knew he should probably not be listening, should alert them that he was awake, but… Molly’s next words were a mix of amused and defensive. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. It’s dark out, I doubt he’ll even recognize me in the daylight.”

“What happened?” Yasha asked, sounding more awake.

“Nothing really. I went to clear my head, just wander the streets. Tried to tell a few fortunes, got three gold, so there’s that.” Molly chuckled. “Spent most of it in a tavern, lost a few rounds of cards. It was dark when I left, but I didn’t think much of the empty streets until a couple crownsguard took exception to myself. Long story short, I took the long way around coming back here.”

“Molly…”

“I’m fine, Yash.” Molly assured her quickly.

Silence followed, Molly and Yasha’s breath soon evening out in sleep. Caleb waited, counting the minutes, the seconds as they ticked by, only moving once he was _certain_ they were asleep. Quietly, holding his breath in fear of waking them, he got up from the bed, wincing and freezing as the wood creaked. He cursed silently to himself, closing his eyes and waiting in tense fear.

Minutes passed with no movement from the other two. Satisfied they hadn’t heard, Caleb crept over to the door, fishing blindly around in his components bag as he knelt.

He had not cast this spell in a very long time, Trent had not allowed it. Molly and Yasha probably wouldn’t realize what the wire was, why it was there. He would risk their anger over this, just this once... His fingers found the silver wire and tiny bell and Caleb carefully withdrew them. He took several slow, quiet breaths, steadying his hands so the bell would make no noise.

Carefully, whispering the spell so quiet it was nearly inaudible at times, he lay the wire in front of the door. Once done, he shifted carefully back to the bed, curling up at the corner furthest from the door. It was a false sense of security, it did nothing to quell the fear that Ikithon would come for him, but it was enough he could close his eyes and let uneasy sleep take him.

~~

Caleb’s alarm spell woke him a few hours later, his eyes snapping open as he drew in a sharp breath. He scrambled upright, heart skipping in his chest even as he realized it was only Yasha leaving the room. His moment of relief was short lived as he flinched away from Molly’s voice.

“Hey, sorry. She was trying not to wake you.” Molly said from where he was sitting cross legged on the bed roll. He continued, filling the silence as Caleb tried to get his heart rate back under control. “Beau never came back last night, so Yasha’s going to see if Jester will message her.”

“I c-could have-.” Caleb replied, cutting himself off quickly. It wasn’t his place; they knew he had the capability; he knew better than to correct them. Trent had taught him better, what was he _doing_?

“Don’t worry about it. You were sleeping, and Jester loves messaging people anyway.” Molly assured, shaking his head. “Speaking of… Messenger from the castle came by yesterday, dropped off the invitation. Everyone was doing their own thing, so only me and Nott know. You want to show it to Jester? She’s been looking forward to shopping, I’m sure it’ll make her day.”

Caleb had a hard time _not_ watching the door as he slid to sit at the edge of the bed, though he knew his attention should be on Mollymauk. Did he know Caleb had set the alarm spell? Caleb knew he wasn’t supposed to, knew he shouldn’t have…

Trent had followed him into his dreams after, angry and disappointed. He had more than enough memories of the pain of discipline and correction and the dreams had felt all too real. He could not shake the feeling of dread…

“Caleb?”

Caleb schooled the automatic flinch into little more than a slight twitch, his heart in his throat as he realized he had not answered Mollymauk. Ignoring them was the worst disrespect, he knew better, did not want another reminder of that rule. Half remembered dreams and remnant fear still clung to him, making it harder to hold on to the thin veneer of calm and it was an effort to keep his voice from shaking. “I…am not sure she would… appreciate it. From me.”

Molly tilted his head, considering. He knew for a fact that Jester _would_ appreciate Caleb coming to show her the invitation, talking to her in general. The many times that _he_ had fucked up somehow, Molly had been beyond relieved that Caleb didn’t just say fuck it and want nothing more to do with him, ever. And yeah, part of that was Caleb probably didn’t think he had much choice and was basically forced to just deal with them, but that was beside the point.

Molly knew Jester, and he knew she felt bad about the whole thing with the crystals. Seeing Caleb was fine and not terrified of her would do wonders, probably for them both. “Sure she would. Here.” Molly offered, twisting around to find his coat and pulling out the letter. It was a little crumpled, the seal broken and half missing, but was unmistakably from the palace. Molly held out the parchment for Caleb to take.

Except Caleb _didn’t_ take it, but just slowly looked at him with an expression of wary confusion that should probably make sense, but… it was Caleb, so Molly wasn’t sure how this was being taken the wrong way.

Molly lowered his hand, trying to smile even though he was starting to worry that he’d done something wrong… again. He kept his tone soft, trying to convey calm. “You can ask questions, remember? If you’re worried or don’t understand something.”

Caleb dropped his gaze, hands tightening on the thin mattress he sat on. When he spoke it was slowly, as if struggling to find the correct words, or choosing them extremely carefully. “Are you… angry. With… with me?”

“I’m not angry.” Molly said gently, trying to catch Caleb’s gaze. He didn’t move from his seat on the bedroll, worried that coming closer would just scare Caleb right now. Except Caleb was already scared and the truth was more along the lines that Molly didn’t think he could deal with Caleb flinching away and asking not to be hurt. Or, just as bad, waiting in resignation for punishment.

“I disobeyed you.” Caleb nearly whispered.

“You really didn’t. But, since I don’t know what you’re talking about, mind explaining how?”

“You did not want me to use the crystals, but I did so anyway. I upset Jester, she _cried_.” Caleb explained, displaying a brief flicker of emotion before that was shut away. “I interrupted your conversation. Demanded Caduceus heal me, though it was my own fault I had been injured at all.”

Today was going to be a difficult one, Molly could already tell. This had to be one of the longest conversations he’d had with Caleb without the wizard stumbling over his words. And while the tense stiffness in the wizard was relaxing slowly, the distant look in Caleb’s eyes didn’t exactly reassure Molly that this was a good thing.

He took a second to buck up his own resolve, then stood to carefully close the short distance between them and sit beside the wizard on the bed. Whatever Molly’s own worries, the worst he would have was hurt feelings if Caleb flinched away. He’d back off if that happened, if it seemed Caleb really didn’t want him within arm’s reach, but he couldn’t not try. Caleb might take him keeping his distance as some kind of fucked up punishment, and that would probably make things worse in the long run.

Caleb didn’t move away, didn’t react beyond the slight tightening of his shoulders as Molly settled beside him. The mage closed his eyes for a moment when Molly moved close enough to lean lightly against him, but soon stared blankly forward once more.

“Let’s start at the top of that list.” Molly began lightly, tilting his head back so he looked up at the cobwebs on the ceiling. “I don’t like you using the crystals because it hurts you, and you’ve been forced to use them enough in your life and I don’t want you to think you _owe_ that to us.”

Molly paused for a moment, letting Caleb take a moment to, hopefully, absorb that bit of information. He was listening, had turned his head a fraction in Molly’s direction though was still holding onto that careful neutrality. Molly continued, still speaking softly. “But just because I don’t like something, doesn’t mean you’re forbidden to do it. Yasha doesn’t particularly like that I have to bleed to activate the rites on my swords, but I do it anyway when it’s needed.”

“I…thought it… was needed…” Caleb said haltingly.

Molly smiled slightly, leaning closer to Caleb and letting his tail wrap around the wizard’s back. Caleb was talking, that was _good_ ; even better was defending his own decision. It was a relief, just as much so as when Caleb pressed close against him in return.

“Then Jester will understand. She was only upset because she thought it was her fault.” Molly assured him. He waited a moment in case Caleb had anything else to add or ask about, then moved on to the next point.

“You can interrupt any conversation you want, and I fully support you doing that if it’s because you need Caduceus, or Jester, to heal you.” Molly informed him, chancing looking over at Caleb. He was certainly more present now, looking a little puzzled but not completely lost, so Molly continued. “And honestly, that was about as far from demanding as I’ve ever seen.”

Caleb flushed slightly, muttering in Zemnian. “So sagt du.”

“Seriously, you would have to do something pretty bad for me to get mad at you.” Molly said, lips twitching in a smile. He tilted his head as Caleb turned to look at him fully, the mage’s brows furrowing in wary contemplation.

“What- what if… I- last night- I set an alarm spell. I am… that has not been…” Caleb asked carefully. It was something he wasn’t supposed to do… normally… would have enraged Ikithon. He thought he knew how Molly would react, for all his heart still skipped as he spoke.

Surprisingly, but also not, Molly only looked confused. “What’s an alarm spell? I should probably know, based on the name, but mind explaining?”

“Ah, yes, it alerts the caster, either audibly or silent. I- I had cast it to be silent, so it only- only alerted myself. Ah, it alerts those in the area if audible, when someone or something crosses the threshold. It is what, ah, what woke me. Earlier.”

Molly chuckled, grinning. “Failed before we even started. The whole trying not to wake you.”

“S-sorry…” Caleb apologized, a flush creeping up his face.

“Don’t be. It’s a neat spell.” Molly advised, nudging him slightly. “Come on. Why don’t we go see Jester? You can make sure she’s not upset, she can make sure you’re okay, and then, if you agree, she can drag you out shopping for fancy clothes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sagt du = so you say


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh! It's been so long I'm nervous posting this chapter!

Molly led the way out of the room to knock on Jester’s door, Caleb in step behind him. In the few moments before Jester answered, Molly pushed the invitation into Caleb’s hands carefully and ushered Caleb forward so the mage was in front. As the door swung open, Molly putt on an innocent expression, smiling sweetly at Caleb’s confusion.

“Oh, good morning Caleb! Good morning Molly!” Jester greeted them with forced cheer. Molly could tell she was still feeling guilty about yesterday, even if she was trying not to show it.

They stood awkwardly for a moment before Molly shook his head, gently nudging Caleb with a stage whisper. “You have something to give her, remember.”

“Oh, ah, y-yes, ah, the invitation to the banquet arrived.” Caleb stammered, flushing red as he offered the letter to the cleric. “Molly thought that might, ah, cheer you up?”

Jester accepted the invitation, opening it up and reading it, not sounding at all cheered up in the slightest though she tried. “Oh, thank you Caleb, that is super wonderful, of course.”

Molly wanted to sigh, the two of them… Caleb was nervous, which made Jester upset and worried, which only made Caleb even _more_ nervous. It was an awkward standoff and Molly took pity on them. Jester apparently wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted. Though more accurately, she probably didn’t want to upset Caleb any further. The cleric wasn’t usually one to be shy about her opinion or thoughts on something. And of course, if Caleb had any intentions of starting a conversation, he probably thought he wasn’t allowed…

Either way, they obviously needed _some_ help.

“Caleb and I were just talking earlier; he was very worried you might be upset with him.” Molly commented, inviting himself in by just slipping past Jester to go join Yasha where she leaned against the wall looking out the small window.

“I… ah, I am sorry I upset you. Yesterday, I mean. I- I only meant to help?” Caleb offered the apology anxiously. Molly almost felt a little bad about the bewildered and slightly betrayed expression on the mage’s face. Still, it wasn’t any worse than when he’d announced Frumpkin’s existence the first time. And Molly knew this would end the same: Caleb not getting hurt and them (hopefully) making additional progress getting the mage to trust them.

“Oh, Caleb! I’m not upset with you!” Jester exclaimed lightly, stepping back as Molly walked past so that the both of them could come in. She inched closer to Caleb as he came into the room, trailing along behind him and nearly wringing her hands with nervous energy. The room wasn’t very large, so he only made it a few feet into the door to stand in the empty space. “I just felt bad, you know, because we didn’t find anything, and you did all that so we could, and I really tried to find some evidence, but there wasn’t anything. Are you sure you’re okay, you don’t need any more healing do you?”

“Ah… C-Caduceus healed me, I- I went to him, like you wanted.” Caleb stammered out, glancing nervously at Molly and Yasha briefly. His tone became more hesitant, voice light as he asked. “Would- do- ah, would you like Frumpkin? To- to feel better?”

Jester let out a little squeaking sound, unable to hold herself back anymore as she stepped forward and grabbed Caleb in a tight hug. “Caleb that’s just so sweet, you don’t have to, but you know I ALWAYS love Frumpkin, he is the best cat!”

Caleb flushed red, tossing another bewildered look towards the other two, but clicked his fingers to summon the familiar. The cat appeared across his shoulders and Jester found herself face to face with the feline. She giggled as Frumpkin let out a meow, soon laughing as the fey cat crawled forward enough to half drape himself across her horns.

“So, what did Beau say?” Molly asked, unable to tear his eyes away from Jester and Caleb. The wizard looked so flustered it was adorable. He didn’t look afraid, just confused as hell. Jester was definitely in a much better mood now thanks to Frumpkin, something Caleb probably realized as he wasn’t exactly trying hard to untangle the cat from Jester. “I’m guessing she’s fine, since we’re not planning a rescue mission.”

“She is training.” Yasha answered since Jester was busy being attached to Caleb and cooing over Frumpkin. “She said she probably won’t be back for a couple of days.”

“Training.” Molly scoffed as his lips curled in a half grin, shaking his head. “Sure that’s not code for getting into trouble?”

“Probably, but she sounded very pleased with herself.” Jester commented, most of her attention still on Frumpkin and Caleb.

“Beau said she would explain when she returned.” Yasha stated.

Molly shrugged, not worried if these two weren’t worried. Beau could take care of herself. Besides, if she were training, she was at the Cobalt Soul which, for her, was probably fairly safe in general. Probably.

“Now that we have the invitation, we know that Beau is alright, we are definitely going shopping, right?” Jester asked hopefully, giving Frumpkin a final scrooch before stepping away.

“We only have a few days until the event, if we want to be dressed to impress, we need to get commissions started today.” Molly advised. “I’m fabulous always, but I know a few of us that could use a little help.”

“Beau said she trusted us to pick something nice for her.” Jester supplied.

“Perfect! Should we go hunt down Fjord and Caduceus and get started?” Molly asked. “And Nott, where is she by the way?”

“She went to go get us some breakfast.” Yasha replied.

“Which they refused to sell to me.” Nott piped up, appearing in the doorway as a halfling for a moment before the disguise slipped away. She stalked into the room, annoyance apparent, though she did pause to bid Caleb good morning in a much sweeter tone.

“Awww, man.” Jester complained, though her tone was not at all upset. “I guess we’ll just have to go find some more of those little cakes Molly got the other day.”

“Jester, you can’t just eat cakes for breakfast.” Nott chided her.

“Ah, I could… ah, I could try?” Caleb offered. “The innkeeper may be more, ah, more amenable to myself?”

“That is very thoughtful of you Caleb!” Nott praised, turning to Caleb who turned a light red once more at her words. “You don’t have to if you don’t want. We can find breakfast elsewhere.”

“I do not mind.” Caleb repeated, gaze flickering around at the rest of them briefly. “I, ah, I want to?”

“If you’re sure, then here, take this.” Nott agreed, stepping closer to him and handing him four gold. “And don’t let him be rude to you.”

“Ah… this- this is more than…” Caleb began, trailing off uneasily.

“Caleb, do you want me to come with you? To help carry anything?” Yasha offered.

“No, ah, I will be fine. I.. I will be back soon.” Caleb replied awkwardly. He paused for a moment but, when no objections or requests came his way, turned to head out of the room with Frumpkin still around his shoulders.

Caleb was not overly anxious about his self-assigned task, though he did belatedly realize that it was not an entirely appropriate thing to do. Ikithon would not have tolerated the presumption. Although, his old master would also not resort to staying here. Caleb would have been expected to caste the mansion and they would have eaten of the food therein. Why the Mighty Nine preferred to spend their own coin when his skills were at their disposal, he had no clue.

Relative to their current sleeping quarters, the level of comfort was of little difference to him, but _their_ quarters that he had created within the mansion were far more comfortable. Safer as well, though given their reputation and the majority of them being warriors, perhaps that was not highly important to them.

Caleb would prefer to stay more secure within the mansion, assured that no matter what nightmare Trent chased him into, the man could not, at least, find him in the waking world. It would be _his_ choice who could come or go into the mansion. The others disliked Ikithon so he need not worry that they would make him give the man entrance. Laughable as it was, Caleb almost thought that they would not make him give _them_ access to the arcane mansion if he did not want.

It was a foolish thought, followed by an equally foolish and frankly _dangerous_ desire to… to test how far the group would let him go before he crossed some line. Volunteering to fetch them food, for all he had to be given gold to purchase it, seemed to be acceptable. Asking questions was acceptable for most of them, though he was not sure the complete boundaries on that.

“Hey! You want sumthin, or you just gonna stand there?” A voice growled at him, and Caleb realized he’d made it to the main room of the inn and had, presumably, been standing silent at the bar for some time.

Caleb flushed, trying to tamper down the reaction as he forced his voice to remain steady. “Yes, I require a meal for my companions and myself.”

The man wrinkled his nose, giving Caleb a once over. “We don’t serve their kind here, it’s only by support of the crown and Cobalt Soul they were given room at all. Piss off.”

Caleb tilted his head slightly, drawing back into himself mentally as he adopted an air of cold indifference. “You would refuse service to the Cerberus Assembly?”

He did not enjoy frightening people normally, did not enjoy the many skills Ikithon had taught him over the years, and he **hated** how much like Ikithon he sounded in this moment. But he much less enjoyed _failing_. Despite the certainty ~~uncertainty~~ of the lack of punishment for a failure, he did not want to return to Nott and the other empty handed.

The man paused, narrowing his eyes at Caleb for a moment. After a minute, long enough Caleb hoped perhaps he had reconsidered and there would be little other problems and he would have finally done _something_ that fit into the category of ‘correct’ no matter _who’s_ set of values, the barkeeper grumbled a few insults, demanded a few silver, and headed through the door separating to the kitchens.

When he returned a several minutes later, he held a single plate with a sparce fare of bread, cheese, and a handful of fruit. He almost tossed the plate onto the counter, giving Caleb a flat look.

“This is not enough for all-“

“O’ course, there’s a shortage, the war you _companions_ started, Xhorhasian filth, so if you want more, go elsewhere.” The innkeeper interrupted, crossing his arms as he scowled at Caleb.

Deciding it would probably be best to not push this issue right now, Caleb just took the plate of food. He did not have Beauregard here currently to put the weight of the crown behind them and he did not want to be responsible for getting them kicked out. The few customers in the room were silent and watching the exchange, none of their expression very friendly. Frumpkin’s tail flicked against his collar in a reflection of his own unease. Ikithon’s plan was to point blame at the Mighty Nine… Caleb wondered if the older mage was somehow responsible for the growing tension against non-humans in the city. Or had it always been this way, he had just never been out to see it before?

He could hear the others talking as he approached the room, though Caduceus and Fjord’s voices were still absent, so he presumed no one had gone to get the other two.

Caleb blinked at the state of the room as he returned, pausing in the doorway for a moment. Feathers, few as they were from the thin pillow that was, at this point, no longer in shape enough be called a pillow, lay scatter across the small floor space. Jester was laughing, and even Yasha’s expression was that of a soft smile, so he could only presume that nothing bad had happened in the brief time he had been gone.

At least their mood was good, perhaps they would not be too disappointed in his failure.

He dismissed any questions about what had happened; though he thought… maybe he could ask… and they would not mind? He did not have the bravery to test that right now, however.

“Oh, Caleb! You’re back!” Jester exclaimed, alerting the other three to his presence.

Caleb entered the room, offering the lone plate of food he’d acquired to Jester as the cleric untangled herself from Molly and Yasha to approach. He dropped his gaze, tone apologetic as he explained.

“Ah… This is- this is all they would sell to me.”

Jester accepted it, head tilting in confusion at the small fare. “Oh, wow, did they like, not have anything ready or just had so many other people or something?”

“N-no, I… I do not think so. Ah… the innkeeper did not- ah, he was not overly fond of…” Caleb struggled to answer, having no way to convey the flat refusal of the man to serve anything to the Mighty Nine. The innkeeper’s phrasing had been less than polite, and Caleb had no desire to repeat it. He did not want to upset Jester or hurt her feelings.

“Don’t pretend you’re disappointed.” Molly scoffed. “You know you were going to get muffins the whole time.”

With Jester’s attention turning to Molly, Caleb headed over to Nott, kneeling down to offer her the left-over gold and silver. As predicted, she had given him far too much. “Ah, here, Nott.”

“Why don’t you keep it, Caleb?” Nott suggested gently, carefully pushing the offered coins back to the wizard.

Caleb’s brow furrowed as he dropped his gaze, uneasy with the suggestion. He had done nothing to deserve the coin; had in fact _failed_. He hesitated, shoulders tensing as he contemplated what he was about to do. It was stupid and pointless to argue, so why in the nine hells was he about to...

The other three were paying them no attention, so he drew in a slow breath and offered Nott the money once more. “A-are… are you s-sure? You s-should take it b-back. It- ah… you had given me too- too much..”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Nott repeated in an assuring tone. “You can use it to buy something when we go out later. Or save it for something else. Okay?”

Caleb nodded, anxiety not eased much by her gentle tone. He wasn’t about to push his luck by asking again as it seemed his insistence had gained the attention of the others. He stood and tucked the coins away, shaking slightly as he pulled Frumpkin from around his neck and hugged the cat close to his chest. He backed away from them, eyes on the ground as he moved to the far side of the room. It wasn’t much distance from them, and he didn’t want to _leave_ … he just didn’t want to be in arms reach right now. Just in case…

Ikithon would have **never** let him get away with questioning him, wouldn’t have given him his own money in the first place. Yet, despite the rapid beating of his hear, the ingrained instinct that screamed otherwise, they were not angry. They were not even annoyed at how he had been so insubordinate to contradicted and questioned an order. To dare tell Nott what to do. She hadn't even blinked at his presumption. It was… a strange feeling of relief, even if he wasn’t confident enough to rejoin them just yet. For all their reassurance, a part of Caleb still expected punishment for breaking a well-established rule.

But they had said they would not and thus far had, without exception, kept that promise.

It was still an effort not to flinch away from the light knock on the door frame, Fjord entering the room with Caduceus behind him. Frumpkin’s quiet purr grew louder as the feline butted his head against Caleb’s chin, crawling his way back around the wizard’s shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much plot progression (or like.....any) but Caleb is having thoughts and considerings!!


	85. Chapter 85

“Are we making plans in here now?” Fjord commented, looking exhausted as he came in. Caduceus was a step behind him, looking tired as well but not as haggard as the warlock.

Jester frowned at Fjord, looking him over as she offered the plate of food to him. “Here, you look like you need it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just… tired.” Fjord sighed, glancing over at Caduceus. He accepted the food, picking at it slightly as he moved into the room, keeping his distance from Caleb.

“Are you up for shopping?” Jester asked worriedly.

Fjord scoffed, trying for a smile. “You know me, always love to spend all our gold.”

“A distraction might be a good idea.” Caduceus suggested.

Surprisingly enough, Fjord nodded in agreement. He would be glad when this all was over, they could get out of this city, out of the Empire in general, head back to Nicodranas or even as far as Port Damali. He wouldn’t mind visiting his old stomping grounds again. Certainly they could find _some_ work along the way, kill some creatures or deal with some bandits. Anything that wasn’t the slow crawl of political intrigue.

Caduceus worried that was still Uk’otoa’s influence on him, a more passive and enticing way of drawing him back to the ocean. Fjord didn’t want to admit that the Firbolg was right. He still dreamed of Uk’otoa, of the ocean, of the near glowing orange orbs that seemed to call to him. His patron was still angry, furious even, and most of Fjord’s dreams were haunted by the consequences of that anger, but sometimes… Sometimes he remembered that rush of power and he **wanted** …

Fjord ran his hand down his face. Yes, a distraction was definitely a good idea. He had tried as much meditating and praying to the wildmother as he could stand and talking to Caduceus was only so helpful. The others were already getting up and filing out of the room, Fjord having lost track of the conversation around him. Apparently, they’d decided on a course of action, or at least a direction to go in.

Fjord dropped the now empty plate (he’d finished off the food while lost in thought) on the bar as they passed through the front room of the inn. He got a scowl for his efforts, the man at the bar sneering at the plate and Fjord himself. They weren’t getting many friendly looks as they left the place and Fjord hoped this wouldn’t turn into a _thing_. Though, knowing their luck, it would probably come back to bite them soon enough…

Jester and Molly led the way to the market, angling toward the higher end tailor shops. This brought them to the market that was closest to the Shimmer Ward, the large open gates of the inner city close enough they could see the guards standing at the gate.

They drew a lot of attention at the market; one human amid a group of what most of the population of Rexxentrum would label as demons (and some did under their breath). For the most part, people avoided them. A few city guard tailed them for a while, but none approached and the group mostly just tried to ignore them.

The first three shops they entered, they were politely (if snottily) asked to leave by the owners. Two of which made it very clear the _Caleb_ could stay provided he even had the means to purchase anything of the quality they produced. The further they got from the Shimmer Ward, they received less disgusted glares from the citizens and shop owners, but the general disposition didn’t change.

It was at the fourth shop that their luck ran sour, a particularly nasty shop owner decided to nearly get himself killed with his comments to Jester. He started off confident and full of himself, insults flowing freely as he, apparently, was trying to impress his staff. Of course, Fjord’s already tenuous control of his temper was completely broken and the weasely soon man found himself with one dark eyed warlock looming over him. He was lucky Fjord’s first strike was just a punch, the warlock’s blade appeared seconds later and Yasha only just got her arm around the half orc before he could attack again.

“Oh, no. Fjord. Stop. Don’t.” Molly drawled listlessly, eyes narrowing in fury at the shopkeeper. Served the fucker right if Fjord strangled him. He wanted to help, not pull the warlock away from the shrieking human. Unfortunately, a dead shopkeeper would make life, and their mission here, very difficult. And Caleb was looked pale and terrified, so yeah.. maybe this wasn’t exactly the best thing to be happening right now.

Yasha managed to wrestle Fjord away from the greasy man and Caduceus stepped between to separate them.

“Here, let me help.” Caduceus said evenly as he reached out to touch the shopkeeper, hand glowing a soft green but the man knocked his hand away.

“Out! The lot of you! Demon spies! I’ll have the guard on you, get out!” The man spat out, stepping back a second later and beginning to shout for the guards.

“Fjord, come on. We should go.” Yasha told Fjord, step by step pulling him toward the doorway of the shop. Jester hooked her arm in Molly’s pulling his attention away from the shopkeeper as Caduceus shrugged and turned to leave with the rest of them. The cleric looped her other arm around Caleb to pull him along as well. Nott led them through side streets, twisting around until they lost any potential pursuers and the sound of shouting became distant and finally faded into nothing.

“Welcome to being part of the Mighty Nine…” Molly drawled sarcastically to Caleb, casting a glare in the general vicinity they had come from. “ _That_ is why we spent so much time in Xhorhas or anywhere that isn’t a major empire city. In case you were wondering.”

“Is… Is it always this, ah, like this?” Caleb asked softly.

“Sometimes.” Molly shrugged, glancing over at Caleb and frowning at the mage. “And don’t you dare apologize, it’s not _your_ fault.”

Caleb paused, looking down at the ground as they walked at a more sedate pace to a different section of the city, before saying deliberately. “I am sorry.”

Molly sighed heavily, about to reassure Caleb that they didn’t blame him, no one was mad, except when he looked at Caleb the wizard didn’t appear guilty, scared, or any of his usual ‘don’t hurt me’ state of minds. Instead he was… curious? It was shadowed by concern and worry, true, but there was a calculating look to Caleb’s expression that changed the meaning behind the apology completely.

It also made Molly realize that Caleb had just done something he’d been expressly told _not_ to do. Molly had never felt like hugging the wizard more, he was so proud. Instead, immensely more cheerful now, he scoffed and gave Caleb a grin.

The expression slid from his face as he looked at Jester’s still far too fake smile. “Hey, are you okay though Jess? That guy was an ass, screw him.”

“Oh, I am o-kay, totally okay.” Jester tried to reassure them, but the wobble to her voice was not at all reassuring.

“Ah… h-here…” Caleb stammered, summoning Frumpkin and pressing the fey cat into Jester’s hands. “W-would you, ah, would you h-hold him?”

Jester stopped walking to accept Frumpkin, worry crossing her expression. Caleb’s tone had been soft, anxious, and hesitant as his hands shook. “Caleb-“

“If- if you don’t mind, ah, I-.” Caleb stumbled over his words, gaze flickering over to Fjord, Yasha, and Caduceus as they caught up. He shifted to block Frumpkin from Fjord’s sight, whatever bravado had prompted him to both defy Molly and insist Jester hold Frumpkin seeping away. “W-would you? Ah, h-hold him, please?”

Jester smiled, eyes watery as she hugged Frumpkin close for a long moment. “Thank you very much Caleb, you are so nice.”

Caleb smiled, the expression full of worry and anxiety as he watched Frumpkin purr in Jester’s arms. “You are, ah, welcome.”

Caleb stayed by Jester as they continued walking, trying not to be too obvious about keeping himself between Frumpkin and most of the others. Though Molly noticed it was mostly Fjord that Caleb seemed hyper aware of.

They continued the search. At the next shop, Caduceus suggested that perhaps Caleb should go and see if they would be able to shop there rather than all of them walking in again. None of them wanted another close call like the last shop (the last thing they needed was the guard after them again). When Caleb hesitated with a worried glance at Jester, the cleric handed Frumpkin back to him and Caleb went to scope out the shop.

When he returned a few moments later, he simply shook his head, eyes down as he silently handed Frumpkin back to Jester, shaking his head once more when she tried to return the fey cat. The process repeated for two more shops as they slowly circled the city, each of them getting more frustrated and tense (or in Caleb's case nervous and wary) as they continued.

They finally found a shop well after midday at the north eastern side of the city, right outside of the Mudtop Ward. The quality of the garment’s displayed was not quite as fancy or rich as Jester was perhaps hoping for, but they were well made. And the place wasn’t in such a busy or rich part of town that it could pass up on clients.

The few customers that were in the shop when the Mighty Nine entered soon left upon seeing them, leaving the shop empty for the group to peruse as they wanted. The owner was polite, but obviously nervous about them and gravitated more towards interacting with Caleb rather than the others.

Jester spun around to face the group as the shop keeper drifted away after welcoming them, putting her hands on her hips as she pointed out each of their assignments. “Okay! Caduceus and I will work on finding something for Beau, then Yasha. Yasha, if you see something you like in the meantime, let us know, we will totally help you out. Nott and Molly, you two find something nice for Fjord and then Caleb, okay?”

Molly gave Jester a lopsided grin and a half mocking salute. “You got it, general fancy pants!”

Jester snickered before turning and hurrying after Caduceus and Yasha.

Caleb wasn’t entirely sure about being grouped together with Fjord, despite Molly and Nott there as well. The dark fury had faded from the warlock’s eyes, but Caleb could remember it too well. The same look Fjord had held when he’d discipline him that night in the mansion.

He still couldn’t believe what he had done earlier; both ignoring Molly’s orders and telling Jester to hold Frumpkin, saying no when she’d told him to take the feline back. He didn’t regret it; Jester like Frumpkin and would not harm the cat. Fjord was the threat, and Caleb had been careful to keep an eye out in case he needed to send his friend away.

Jester’s mood had improved at least. Neither she nor Molly were upset with his behavior, something he was still trying to wrap his mind around. If only he could stop imagining, stop _remembering_ , in painful detail each consequence Ikithon would have issued for all of his actions today. So many failures, so many disobediences.

He followed Nott and Molly around reservedly, dismissing Frumpkin when Fjord wandered by once too often. He was exhausted already despite how little they had done today. Measuring and weighing every decision, every word, ignoring the ingrained lessons from Ikithon...It was draining, and terrifying. He had _defied_ Molly and the Tiefling had only grinned. What did it mean? Was he angry, planning some retribution, or was it some impossible form of praise? It made no sense and he could only try to rearrange everything he'd learned growing up to fit into the new rules (or lack thereof) that he found himself existing with.

It consumed his thoughts, leaving little left over but enough to listen and obey Molly and Nott's gentle directions. Caleb would not risk a lapse of attention igniting Fjord's anger once more and putting Frumpkin at risk. So he sent his friend away. Caleb had pushed his luck enough today. Molly and Jester had let him be disobedient and contrary, he did not think Fjord would be so forgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: I'm not good at fashion. Not describing it, not deciding what's good or not, nothing. So! It's going to be up to YOUR imagination what their outfits will be. Sufficed to say they will be acceptable for court appearance, but otherwise, I have no idea. 
> 
> XD
> 
> Also, huzzah for baby steps!


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... real talk. The timeline got a little squiggly... I think I got off on my count of how many days had passed, yadda yadda... but. Whateves, we gonna make it work! (Aka: I do what I want)
> 
> Sidenote: I ordered a Frumpkin keychain plushie and a Caleb pin and I am the most excited fangirl ever right now!
> 
> Carry on!

Over the next few days most of the Mighty Nine kept a low profile. Jester messaged Beauregard a few times, making sure she was still okay and didn’t need rescuing. Beau replied each time that she was fine and most definitely did NOT need rescuing, she could take care of herself. And besides, she wasn’t in any danger.

It didn’t stop them from worrying. Jester wasn’t quite as concerned, since she was the one that spoke directly to Beau and could tell she really was okay. Yasha worried, stony and silently intense each morning when she requested Jester to message Beau and check on her.

Today, Caleb found himself accompanying Jester and Molly into the market to retrieve their finished clothings. Caduceus had stayed at the inn with Fjord, the warlock in no mood to deal with the bigotry of the city, something that had only worsened as time passed. With only two days until the party, Nott had gone with Yasha to find Beau. No matter her reassurances, the monk had been gone for far too long and Yasha was not going to wait any longer.

It took Caleb, Jester, and Molly a good two hours or so to get to the shop, pay for the clothing, and head back. When they returned to the inn, it was only to find Fjord and Caduceus sitting across the street from the Sunset Inn, on the porch of a boarded up tavern. Stacked around and next to the two were piles of their, and the rest of the groups, belongings.

“Well, that can’t be good news…” Molly muttered, leading the way over to them.

Caduceus caught sight of their approach first, turning and lifting a hand in greeting. Fjord’s gaze followed the Firbolg’s, standing up as the three gathered around.

“I’m guessing bad news?” Molly asked, looking pointedly around at the things around them.

“You could say that.” Fjord snorted.

“It seems that the owner of the inn heard Beauregard wasn’t staying with us anymore and he asked us to leave.” Caduceus explained.

“More like a bunch of crowns guard showed up to ‘escort’ us off the premises.” Fjord correct, tone sour enough it was obvious he wasn’t quite as quick to forgive _or_ forget.

“Widogast?” A gruff voice interrupted their conversation as a soldier headed towards them, eyes on Caleb.

Caleb straightened automatically, barely thinking as he put on a mask of indifference, swiftly placing Frumpkin in Jester’s hands and stepped toward the crowns guard. “Yes?”

“Your presence with the Xhorhasians has been called into question. You will need to accompany me to the assembly to verify this arrangement.” The man recited dully, casting a dubious glance at the two Tieflings, one half orc, and Firbolg.

“Of course.” Caleb agreed in a neutral tone. He inclined his head slightly, still maintaining the polite, if cold, indifference. “If I may have a moment?”

The guard nodded, though his expression was impatient. “Make it quick.”

Caleb turned to Molly to find, as expected, the blood hunter looking very unhappy. Jester’s expression was much the same, though more worried, and Caduceus was similarly concerned. Fjord’s expression was that of suspicion, though Caleb put that aside as a worry for another time. He could do nothing to try and reassure the warlock right now, not without further antagonizing the guard anyway. He would accept whatever consequences followed from Fjord later.

For now, he addressed Jester and Molly who’s expressions seemed to demand answers. “The Assembly knows and are agreed that I am to be with the Mighty Nine, all of you, this will not take long. I… I would suspect this is due to the innkeeper.. I am sorry to have cause-“

“You don’t have to apologize, Caleb.” Jester interrupted. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you going to be alright though? They’re not going to hold you responsible or anything?” Molly questioned. “Should one of us come with you?”

“I should not think so, no.” Caleb replied, shaking his head. “Ah, there is- is no need to, it is doubtful you would- ah, forgive me, I do not think they would… would allow any of you inside…”

Caleb kept himself still, though he wanted to cringe. No, it wasn’t _his_ fault that the guards and the Assembly leaders would bar any and all members of the Mighty Nine access, yet his heart still skipped at having to say as much aloud to them. He had seen firsthand their growing frustration at the biased nature of most of the general populace of the city, his own sense of self-preservation cautioned against reminding them of that.

Molly’s sigh was full of annoyance and Caleb’s stomach twisted with tight anxiety. Molly wouldn’t hurt him, he promised. And besides, they were out in the middle of the street, he was safe for now.

“Fuck, I was afraid you’d say that… You can’t skip out? Just not go?” Molly asked.

“It is…for the best. If I do.” Caleb told him softly, glancing over at the growingly impatient guard. The hierarchy between the Assembly and the crowns guard was an odd one. Technically, mages answered to the guard (in a way), except for the leaders of the Assembly who answered only to the King.

Yet most crowns guard did not push that agenda too far or try and ‘pull rank’ on most mages. Generally, they were all too aware that it was probably wisest to pick your battles when the other person had enough magic at their disposal to cause serious damage.

Caleb had learned long ago that, so long as he was at least some semblance of polite, most guard would treat him with either the same distant politeness or casual indifference. He had little enough occasion dealing with them on his own, Ikithon often accompanied him for anything not a specific mission, and few dared challenge Trent Ikithon.

Molly didn’t look at all convinced, however, and Caleb knew that it would only create more problems if they did not allow him to go. Much as he did not want to leave Frumpkin to rely upon the others to protect him, he could think of no other way to quickly get Molly to agree. Assuming it was worry, of all things, that caused the bloodhunter to balk at allowing him to leave.

“Ah, if… if you do not mind, Jester, you… you could, ah, keep Frumpkin?” Caleb offered, unconsciously rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as he looked at Frumpkin. Silently, unable to not try and do _something_ to protect his friend if he were going to abandon him here with only Jester and Molly to look out for him, he told the familiar to run and hide if any of the group tried to harm him.

With some difficulty, Caleb turned his gaze to Jester, meeting her eyes as he continued nervously. “If- if anything happens to me, if- if there is some, ah, some problem, he will- will vanish.” Caleb dropped his gaze again before glancing up at Molly. “Is… is that a-acceptable, Molly?”

Molly still didn’t look happy but he ultimately agreed. “Yeah, since we don’t have much choice.”

“Don’t worry, Caleb, I will totally look after Frumpkin, okay? You just take care of yourself, and come back safe, totally message me if you need to, okay? If something happens, we’ll come help you out.” Jester told him, hugging Frumpkin carefully.

Caleb nodded, thanking her softly, then turned to follow the guard towards the Shimmer Ward. He tried to put his worry and fears out of his mind, focusing on the problem at hand. He had some supplies to resummon Frumpkin should something happen to his friend while he was away. He need not fear going months without him, trying to keep himself together long enough to please Master Ikithon enough he was granted the components…

Already the anxiety was threatening to overwhelm him, despite how he tried to remind himself that Frumpkin would be okay, Jester and Molly _liked_ the feline.

Caleb tried explaining to the guard as they walked toward the assembly. He was supposed to be with the Mighty Nine, it was part of the peace agreement contract, he had been with them for nearing a month now. He knew that the Assembly council would ask if he had explained the situation, he knew the guard probably believed the explanation, but Caleb equally knew that at this point they had to appear before the assembly anyway. Bureaucracy at its finest.

It happened every so often, and not only to Caleb hence the reason he worried so little. He had often heard Ikithon complain about the idiocy of the Righteous Brand and the Crowns Guard, both using the excuse of verifying a mage’s assignment as a way to exhort some power over the Cerberus Assembly. Ikithon used more… colourful terminology, but the sentiment was much the same.

Caleb was more concerned about Trent being present for this meeting and the man visiting his displeasure upon Caleb afterward. Something that, again, had happened every so often. He could not get Molly’s displeased expression out of his mind; the memory not near as scathing as the fury that Ikithon displayed, yet worrying all the same. But Molly would not hurt him, the Tiefling had said as much over and over. It… it would be fine, he wouldn’t mind that Caleb had insisted on going, would not be upset. It would be _fine_.

Step by step, he closed off his anxieties and fears, until his threading pulse was a distant backdrop to his consciousness. Until the worry and nervousness of Molly’s displeasure, Fjord’s suspicion, even the thought of Frumpkin, all felt like they belonged to someone else. He could function, he could do what was expected.

He was Widogast, just as he had been taught.

~~

The council chamber of the Cerberus Assembly was exactly as Caleb remembered. Located at the northwestern side of the Shimmer Ward, nestled in the center of the Academy Grounds, was the rather opulent grand chamber of the Cerberus Assembly. Three magnificent chairs, not quite ornate enough to be described as thrones (though the intent might be inferred if one wished) were set equidistant from each other. They were designed to inspire awe, to give the visage of power, and each were inscribed with the personal insignia of the leaders of the Assembly they belonged to.

At the center sat Martinet Ludinus Da’leth, the only non human of the Assembly that resided in Rexxentrum. He was an older Elven male, with pale skin and long white hair that stood out against the deep blue robes. As the only living founder of the Assembly left, he was considered the leader, specializing as a master of warfare and conflict. His expression was often cold, a silent calculation to his eyes. Beyond consulting with the King on matters of conflicts, it was unclear what else the leader took personal charge of.

The far left seat was occupied by Athesius Uludan, a human male with slightly long salt and pepper hair that curled slightly and was pushed to one side. His robes were darker, long and black with silver and blue detailing. He played the part of an ambassador to foreign powers and interests, oversaw the study of abnormal creatures and arcane creations that may present a threat to the empire, and oversaw the maintenance of the Assembly Archives.

To the right was a familiar form, Master Trent Ikithon, in his appointed seat. Ikithon was considered to be the Headmaster of the Soltryce Academy here in Rexxentrum, though he took little personal approach to the vast majority of teaching students beyond picking the best for his own private tutelage. He was also the propagandist and constructor of the face of the Empire in the upper echelon circles, an occupation that took the majority of his attentions, his influence trickling down even to the peasantry at times. He was known to sometimes overlap his authority with Uludan’s, extending his influence outside of the Empire’s borders.

Smaller, less ornate, seating were scattering in between the main three, for when others of the Assembly were called for strategic meetings and, more notably, the graduation ceremony for the students of the academy. Sometimes, if it were a lower ranked Assembly mage that were being questioned of their assignment, the three leaders would be absent and an assembly of Archmages would preside over the hearing. However, given Caleb’s relatively position in the Assembly, the caliber of Archmage he was, those seats were currently empty.

Lord Uludan and Master Ikithon were both familiar to Caleb, but he had only seen the Martinet at times he had been called before the assembly, and at his graduation ceremony. He was unsure what to think of the eldest member of the Assembly, had no clear grasp on his personality or where his loyalties lay. Ikithon had never spoken of him in Caleb’s presence, neither good nor ill, so Caleb had no basis to judge him with.

It was almost odd, after so long with the Nine and not having to hide his fear, to draw back into himself and let himself adopt the cold air of professionalism that Trent had taught him. His master was watching, however, and he knew better than to fail at this task. As he explained himself, his voice sounded odd to his own ears; flat for all his accent was still present, confident for all his heart raced with fear under Ikithon’s cold silent gaze, and level even though his stomach was a twisted tangle of knots.

He had been given to the Mighty Nine as part of the peace negotiations. Equal representation for both sides in a prominent, well known group of warriors whose base of operations was situated so that a watch could be kept on both the Dynasty and the Empire.

From there, the proceeding were simple; something Caleb had done more than once.

The guard put forth the complaint and question from his superiors, the assembled leaders of the Cerberus Assembly verified that Caleb was sent by the Assembly with the King’s authorization to work with the Mighty Nine in accordance with the peace agreement for the benefit of both the Dwendalian Empire and the Xhorhasian Dynasty. The reading of the agreement by the secretary was what took the majority of time.

It was petty enough that Caleb distantly wondered who had pissed off the guard enough that they were pushing this question when they _had_ to know he was where he had been told to be.

Eventually, the case was dismissed, the guard went his way, and the Assembly leaders all stood and began filing out to go about what was likely far more important business. Caleb waited, as was expected, in respectful obedience as Da’leth and Uludan exited the chambers. Ikithon remained behind, still silent even as Caleb’s gaze slowly lifted to focus on his old master. Ikithon lifted a hand, motioning for Caleb to follow as he turned and exited the chamber as well, turning down the outer hall.

Caleb followed obediently, too far disconnected from himself to even consider disobeying. He’d been given an order, vague and oddly silent though it may have been. He could not disobey. He tried to come back to himself, to be _present_ to be _aware_. He needed to be careful not to say the wrong thing, give the wrong impression. He could ruin so much of what the Nine had accomplished if he were not careful.

Ikithon led him a few hallways down, before finally entering a room, leaving the door open behind him. Much as Caleb did not want to be here for this, would rather let himself drift, let the coming pain wash over him without really feeling it, he knew he could not.

Caleb did his best not to tremble as he entered behind Ikithon, not to display any weakness. It would only anger Master Ikithon further. He worried that Trent had heard of their investigations, had somehow discovered that Nott and Jester had searched one of his mansions, that they had found the cache of crystals… so many things that Caleb would have been expected to keep the Mighty Nine for doing or discovering. So many things that he had failed to report.

The door closed behind him with soft click, a note of finality in the sound to Caleb. He could not think of a time he had ever so completely disobeyed and disappointed Trent. Yet, along with the fear of whatever was coming, Caleb felt an odd sense of guilt. Molly would be so disappointed. Jester would be sad again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most evil part of me wants to just let that sit here and go visit what Beau's been up to... 
> 
> We shall see what the muses say.


	87. Chapter 87

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like.....98% info dump and 2% dialogue and I hope you don't hate it....

She thought it would get old after the first day or two, tossing Brethas around as High Curator Yudala showed her a few neat tricks. Yudala showed Beau _how_ first on their own in private, but of course Beau had to practice afterwards and who else but her new pal Brethas to perfect the new techniques on?

Beauregard had thought it might get old, that she might start to feel a little guilty for beating the shit out of him over and over. Except, Brethas didn’t seem to know how. To. Shut. Up.

Right about the time Beau would think that maybe that was enough (because; fuck she never used to feel this guilty about beating the crap out of people before Caleb), and she thought that maybe the bastard might have learned his lesson, he’d open his mouth and make _some comment_ , reminding Beau all over again that; no this guy had it coming. And the most amusing part, he thought they were _friends_. That Beau was doing him a fucking _favor_ bringing his ‘potential’ to Yudala’s attention.

The technique was really too advanced for him in the first place, both Beauregard and Yudala knew it. Hell, the technique was honestly too advanced for Beauregard, but fuck if that was going to stop her from _trying_. Either way, the point wasn’t for Brethas to learn it, so Beau didn’t give a shit what he thought, just that she had someone to practice on and, bonus, pay a bit back that Caleb had been forced to deal with.

After agreeing to stay, dubious as that agreement was (really the temptation of learning something was what convinced her), Beauregard had spend the next hour or so dealing with getting herself a room to stay in and getting caught up on what was going on between the Soul, the Crown, and the Assembly. It also gave Yudala time to clear out a few hours of time to train Beauregard.

At the High Curator’s request, Beau did not invite Brethas to their first training session. “I do not think your chosen sparring partner would fare well under a demonstration, no matter how careful I am.” Yudala said by way of explanation once Beauregard had arrived.

Beau shrugged agreement. She had guessed as much and she learned better knowing exactly what it was she was supposed to be doing to someone else anyway. It was strange because she knew it would probably scare Caleb, but this was normal for her. It was how you learned new techniques here at the Cobalt Soul. You had to know what you were doing, what it _felt_ like, so you could replicate it on someone else. She wouldn’t know how to extend her sense into someone else, how to extract useful information about the enemy, if she hadn’t experienced herself during training. Ki was strange that way; you couldn’t just watch and learn most of the time.

And Brethas was more talk than anything she’d guess, so it was no wonder Yudala didn’t think he could hack it. In all reality, even Caleb could probably turn him into jelly with the difference in their skill level. As she understood, their ‘training sessions’ had been a pretty long time ago. Except Caleb had still seemed afraid of Brethas back at the Inn, so she didn’t think that had been the end of whatever shit had gone one between them.

“That’s fine, I’ll make sure there’s a healer around when me and him are sparring.” Beau smirked.

Surprisingly, Yudala chuckled. “I will be very impressed if you manage to utilize this technique. It is quite advanced, but I know of nothing else that will occupy your attention long enough.”

Beau frowned, suspicion curling in her stomach. It sounded too much like they were trying to keep her here at the Soul, which they were, but Beau worried it was more than just for some political nonsense. Still, she had agreed to stay. At least for now.

She shadowed Yudala’s footsteps as they both moved toward the center of the training ground, the firm packed sand beneath their feet silencing any noise. “You’ve got my attention. What is it I’m supposed to be learning?”

Yudala’s lip curled in a short smile, the High Curator turning to face Beauregard. One arm curled behind their back, the other half stretching out toward Beau in a defensive stance. “Show me how much you have grown first.”

They sparred for a while, though it was only Beauregard attacking and Yudala defending. It frustrated Beau, though every time she’d comment on it Yudala simply responded with ‘you will see why’.

Eventually satisfied with Beauregard’s demonstration of her skill, Yudala dashed forward, getting right up in Beauregards space as she finally went on the offensive. Beau deflected the first two strikes, blocking Yudala’s elbow and the following right hook. Yudala stayed with her, shifting around and bringing one hand to hit her right in the center of the abdomen.

Beauregard stumbled back at the force, the pain of the blow hurting but not near as impactful as she had though it would be for the force Yudala had put into it. Instead, there was this strange quivering sensation in her midsection, like an uncontrollable muscle spasm. It felt almost electrical, not quite painful, and slowly fading though it did not disappear completely.

Yudala held up a hand, stepping back. “You feel that?”

Beau’s nose wrinkled, face scrunching in confusion. “Yeah, it’s kinda weird. Tingles almost.”

“That is an extension of my ki, the first step in this technique. I feel it in my ki, so I know it is there.” Yudala explained, tone soft and breath evenly controlled though they had been sparring for a few rounds now. “Left on its own, it is harmless. For targets less perceptive, there are ways to perform this that they would be unaware it had happened at all. If one is careful.”

“Okay, cool. So what does it do? What’s the rest of it?” Beau pressed, trying not to grin eagerly. This was going to be _useful_ , she could tell.

“You choose when you wish to end the effect; either damaging the target or not at your discretion.” Yudala replied.

“So end it, I wanna know what it does.” Beau insisted impatiently, unconsciously shifting back into a fighting stance to continue the bout.

“It is dangerous, you will want-“

“I’ll be fine, just do it.” Beau demanded.

Yudala lifted an eyebrow, appearing somewhat amused, but indulged Beau’s demand. They lifted their hand, extending it in Beau’s direction and rotating their wrist to lay their hand palm up. Slowly, Yudala curled in their fingers, as if squeezing something in their hand.

That low quiver in Beau’s stomach began to shake, the vibrations growing in intensity as they spread throughout her entire body. The pain was like a wave, crashing over Beauregard and her vision was consumed with darkness as unconsciousness claimed her.

Beauregard came back to wakefulness gasping and coughing, almost surprised to find herself flat on her back, Yudala kneeling next to her with an empty bottle in hand. “The fuck…” Beau groaned, accepting Yudala’s hand as the High Curator helped her sit upright. “I was not prepared for _that_.”

“I did warn you.” Yudala reminded her, assisting Beau in getting to her feet.

“Yeah yeah, but fuck.” Beau snorted, dusting herself off. Everything hurt, like she was one giant bruise. Whatever that technique, she _wanted_ to know how to do that. “I see why you held back sparring before that.”

Yudala half inclined their head in a nod. “The technique is much like deciphering aspects of your opponent, extending your ki into them. It is more subtle, lasting rather than the instant information gained.”

Beau drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly as she rolled her shoulders. It sounded simple enough, but patience hadn’t really ever been her strong suite.

Yudala repeated the technique a few more times on Beau, though not following through to cause damage again. Instead, they ended the affect harmlessly, repeating the technique as they attempted to show Beauregard how it was done. Unsurprisingly to the High Curator, Beauregard struggled to pull off the Quivering Palm technique, never quite able to utilize her ki to start the vibration.

Five days in and she still couldn’t figure out this new technique well enough to pull it off.

Not that she was able to train the entire time. No, Beauregard was also stuck reassuring a bunch of nobles during a few hours each day. They’d found out, apparently (though Beau was pretty sure this had been Yudala’s plan all along), that she was staying at the Soul while the Mighty Nine were in Rexxentrum and were taking advantage of that. Under the guise of visiting the Archives, every so often someone would request Beau be the monk in charge of ‘escorting’ them around the library.

‘Escort’ because ‘making sure you don’t take anything’ was not a description that was to be used regarding the more affluential higher classed individuals that were interested in speaking with Beauregard.

It was a headache and then some; and worrying on top of all that because most of the questions she fielded revolved around her friends and whether or not they were ‘as barbaric as we’ve heard’. It was insulting, infuriating, and the only think keeping her from decking these idiots was the sole desire to find out just which fucker was spreading these rumors.

Yudala made time to train Beauregard over that time. During those sessions with only the two of them, they traded information. Tentative at first, both testing out the other as they slowly established trust. Beau needed to know Yudala was truly on the side of peace, didn’t share the rampant bigotry and racism that was so prevalent in the city, and wouldn’t get them killed by moving on this information too soon. Beau could only guess that Yudala was doing the same; making sure she wasn’t some spy for Trent or whatever other party’s might be involved.

Beauregard shared what she and the Mighty Nine had learned and observed since Caleb joined them; the suspicious behavior of the mages, the rogue mage that Trent had apparently never reported upon his return, the second rogue mage (though Beau didn’t mention it was Eodwulf) that they had fought in Gandre, the plot against the king’s life.

In return, Beau learned that Ikithon had not always had so much influence on the King. Something had changed between the two once peace was declared. According to Yudala, Ikithon had always been interested in power and obtaining more of it, the High Curator and Master Ikithon had often battled for influence over the ruler’s decisions, but Trent had always been loyal to the King and the Empire. He was respected and feared, held a great deal of power already, and the King’s goals and ideals had aligned with his own. So, while the Cobalt Soul and the Cerberus Assembly did not see eye to eye on many things, Yudala saw no threat to the Empire in Ikithon.

As tensions grew between the Empire and the Dynasty, Martinet Ludinus Da’leth had been the one that King Dwendal had consulted with the most. As war was fully declared, that remained costant, though Ikithon had become just as involved due to his specialized team of Volstruker’s. While the Cobalt Soul had, and would, support the crown and the Empire in any conflict, Yudala had been the odd one out.

When peace was declared, Ludinus took on a more supporting role; taking orders on where to shore up defensives and loss of manpower rather than giving King Dwendal suggestions for plans of attack. Oddly enough, while Ludinus was given less and less face time with the King, Ikithon managed to remain close to the throne. For reason’s Yudala was unsure of, Trent had managed to displace Ludinus and managed to prevent Yudala from seeking an audience with the king.

It made a sort of sense to Beau. Ikithon was deeply intrenched in his hatred for anyone not human, or hell not from the Empire given how he’d prevented Caleb from speaking Zemnian, so it stood to reason he’d turn on the King when Dwendal decided it wasn’t worth fighting the Dynasty. She could only guess that his original ‘restart the war’ plan had fallen through and he decided a more direct means of power was required.

The Empire couldn’t continue fighting though, something King Dwendal had to know. He knew how many soldiers they’d already lost, how pressed the citizens of the empire would be to make ends meet after the taxing efforts of funding the war. Yes, the Dynasty hadn’t been in much better shape, but what was the point of winning if you ended up dying of starvation later?

The only problem, as Yudala pointed out, Beauregard didn’t have proof of a plot against the king beyond what Caleb had said. And Caleb’s information came from a rogue mage. To make matters more complicated, a presumed dead mage since it was Eodwulf. A dead mage that was walking around taking orders from Trent. It was a tangled mess and Beau was pretty sure even _she_ wouldn’t have believed it had someone tried explaining it to her with no context.

The horde of crystals was suspicious, but not exactly something Yudala thought would put a stop to Ikithon’s plots. Beau didn’t think she was entirely clear in explaining to Yudala just _what_ the crystals did. Only that they were used by mages and were dangerous. The point still also remained; would King Dwendal even hear them out and would he believe any of it.

Beau was _still_ concerned that Trent had the King under some kind of spell, hypnotized or something, that would make it so he’d side with Trent. How else could the bastard have gotten away with all that he’d done so far? It made no sense.

It was a problem, one that Beau wasn’t entirely sure how to solve.

She really didn’t want to try and catch Trent in the act, though that would be proof enough that he was a traitor. It was too risky though, trying to jump in last minute and stop an assassination. And that was assuming Trent would be there in person. So far he had just sent others to do his dirty work.

Something this important though, maybe… he might not trust his two remaining students to do this for him.

If the plan was to kill the king at the party, blame it on either the Nine or the Xhorhasian diplomat, Trent would at least be there, so they might have a chance.

Only two more days until the banquet and Beau was glad to finally be getting back to her friends, could fill them in. Jester had messaged her letting her know Yasha and Nott were going to come get her, she had been gone way too long and Yasha was worried. Beau had agreed, though reminded them she was _fine_. The last thing they needed was for her friends to think they needed to rescue her and start a fight… She’d worked hard reassuring those dumb nobles, she didn’t want that work undone.

Yasha arrived somewhat before noon, one of the Archivists finding Beauregard to inform her and bring her to the Aasimar woman. Nott was making herself inconspicuous, in her goblin form at the moment though she had her porcelain half mask in place.

“Were you busy?” Yasha inquired, keeping an eye on the archivist that was walking away having brought Beau over. “We have been waiting for a while, they were not very helpful saying where you were…”

“No, I was actually just waiting on you guys.” Beau frowned, following Yasha’s gaze. She didn’t recognize the guy, but she’d guess someone had kept Yasha waiting on purpose. “How long were you waiting?”

“Long enough for Nott’s disguise to wear off.” Yasha replied, turning to follow Beau towards Nott and out of the Cobalt Soul.

“I was beginning to think we really _did_ need to rescue you.” Nott chimed in, falling in step beside them. “What have you been doing all this time?”

“Training.” Beau scoffed, filling them in on most of what she had learned as they walked. Nothing too secret or dangerous, not out here in the open, but enough that it explained why she’d been gone so long. She kept an eye out for anyone following them as they walked, but saw no one suspicious.

All three of them were surprised returning to the inn to find the rest of the group just sort of hanging out on the streets with all of their belongings.

“Should we go look for another place to stay? Gotta be some inn that’s got some free rooms for a couple nights.” Beau asked after Fjord’s quick explanation of being kicked out. She put one hand on her hip, jerking a thumb back at the inn behind her. “Or I can go back in, threaten the owner again. Worked last time.”

“At this point, we might as well have Caleb cast that mansion spell. I don’t think it’s worth the trouble for two nights. _If_ we could even find a place.” Fjord sighed. “Not sure why we didn’t do that in the first place-“

“Because he’d not just a bunch of spells, we didn’t want to make him do stuff he doesn’t want to.” Molly retorted.

“It’s a _spell_ , not like we’re asking him to-“ Fjord started to argue.

“Hang on.” Beau interrupted as she looked around, realizing finally what was missing. She'd seen Frumpkin and just assumed... “Where is Caleb?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote (With spoilers for Campaign 1 so beware): So, I both read about the Quivering Palm technique on Roll20 website (to see what it does) and rewatched the Grog/Vax/Scanlan fight with Earthbreak Groon(sp?) to see what it does in the Mercer homebrew style.
> 
> Anyways, there’s a bit of a difference, because Vax succeeded his save and nothing happened to him, but the description I read online says a failure reduces you to zero and a success is 10d10 nec damage. 
> 
> So, yeah. I dunno what is right, but I went with the internet’s one for flavor flav because it works better for my story. Though, tbh, I rolled a roll and it sucked for Beau, so either way she was getting some damage.
> 
> And that's my disclaimer for this chapter.


	88. Chapter 88

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about waiting til later tonight to post this chapter, but... I think you've waited in suspense long enough. :P

Caleb stopped a few feet into the room, too close to full blown panic to really comprehend how Trent stood, still silently, in the center. He noticed it was a vacant office of sorts, a desk at the far side and a shelf with some books and arcane items, before remembering himself and dropping his gaze. Already preparing himself for the correction for _that_ mistake, Caleb folded his arms obediently behind him. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, but he could at least hide the evidence of such weakness from his master.

“You look well.”

It was the second time Caleb had been startled by what came out of Trent’s mouth (or rather NOT Trent), though this time the voice was accented much like his own, if not quite as heavily. He wasn’t sure if he should believe it or not; had to force himself to look up despite the fear and certainty the action would not be tolerated.

The image of Trent Ikithon wavered and dropped, revealing Eodwulf instead. The other mage smiled slightly, eyes scanning over Caleb slowly. His gaze was unreadable, expression so carefully cold and distant it was frightening in it’s own way.

“J-ja… ah, I- Eodwulf, what-“ Caleb stammered, heart still beating too quickly. He wasn’t quite able to wrap his mind around this, to pull away from the expectation of the discipline that usually followed Ikithon pulling him aside into a private room. Though given his once friend’s expression, that expectation might still be fulfilled. “What- w-what are you doing here?”

“You know how Trent hates these things.” Eodwulf scoffed, expression morphing into casual friendliness with alarming speed. “Lucky they didn’t need any input from him, that might have cause problems though. Astrid didn’t… didn’t give me the…”

Eodwulf’s gaze when distant as he spoke Astrid’s name, eyes near glazing over as he scanned the room in confusion. His brow drew together in puzzlement as his eyes landed on Caleb again. He closed them, shaking his head, and when he looked at Caleb again he seemed fine.

“You, ah, y-you seem to be walking around as anyone _but_ yourself. These days.” Caleb commented, still cautious as the relief slowly crept over him. Not Trent, Eodwulf. And a friendly Eodwulf, apparently, for all he was acting oddly. Although, he wasn’t sure how to take the sudden switches in mood and expression, it was very out of character for the normally stalwart Archmage. Had he changed so much as well, as Astrid had? Slowly, he dropped his arms to his sides, attentive stance slipping somewhat, though he was still tense and anxious.

Caleb glanced at the closed door, hesitating for a moment before asking. “Where… M-may I ask… where is Tr- ah, where is Master Ikithon?”

“Scheiße, sie wirklich…” Eodwulf muttered lowly to himself, tone almost a growl. He frowned, gently his tone and tilted his head as put on a half smile. “Hey, kid, come on, it’s just me here. Entspannen, ja?”

“J-ja, ah, danken.” Caleb chuckled nervously, casting another glance at the closed door. Relax, sure. He would love to, but how when he still half expected Master Ikithon to storm through the door. To deal out discipline and correction as he had many times over in similar situations. “Where is he? To have sent you, it must, ah, it must be important. What he is doing.”

“They had some project they were working on, didn’t want to be interrupted. So they sent me.” Eodwulf replied easily. “Not that I was supposed to talk to you. Go, sit, look important, come back. But you know me, never did like following orders too exactly.”

“Did… did you set this up?” Caleb asked, gesturing shortly toward the door in reference to the hearing that had just ended.

“I think… it- it’s hard to keep things straight especially around- There are gaps, but that’s- I needed to talk to you, it- it was important. And they were busy with… something, I don’t- But it was a chance.” Eodwulf explained, brow furrowing as he struggled with the words. A grin slowly formed as he shook his head, mood shifting. “He was not pleased about being called here though. Not now.”

Eodwulf chuckled, tugging up the hem of his shirt to reveal a familiar looking network of burns across his ribs. “Pissed him off to no end, but you weren’t there so I didn’t give a shit. I needed to talk to you.”

Caleb winced in sympathy. He understood too well Ikithon’s fury. “Wulf…”

“It’s fine.” Eodwulf insisted, dropping his shirt again and shaking his head. “I needed to talk to you.”

“Why did you not simply message me?” Caleb asked, meeting Eodwulf’s gaze again.

“Too risky. I didn’t know what they would do.” Eodwulf explained.

‘They’ being the Mighty Nine, Caleb would guess. It was some small bit of reassurance, to know that Eodwulf cared enough to try and avoid even the possibility of him being harmed.

“You- you have gone to such lengths.” Caleb said, trying for a smile though he felt very guilty for the injuries Eodwulf had suffered. “I cannot, ah, cannot imagine it was just to… to ask how I have been.”

“No.” Eodwulf snorted, smirking. “I would have messaged you for that one, kid. No, it’s- I know what they’re doing, the Mighty Nine I mean. They’re going to get you killed, you’re lucky Illiad came to me and not Ikithon.”

“W-what?” Caleb stammered, heart skipping. If Illiad had realized things were missing at the cavern, if he knew, then what did-

“Whatever they’re planning, it won’t work.” Eodwulf insisted, waving a hand as his tone turned frustrated. “You got them to come here, that’s… that is part my fault, I think… That change in- Can you get them to leave?”

“They- they have been invited by the King. They have accepted, would insult King Dwendal by not appearing." Caleb hedged, unsure what Eodwulf was after. He hadn’t told Ikithon it seemed, or Trent would likely be here to deal with Caleb’s treachery in person.

He wanted to trust Eodwulf, but… he was acting so oddly. He _said_ he knew what the Nine were doing, but he also said they were going to get him killed. Caleb was sure enough that was not their intent; would have been easy enough to do far before this if it had been.

“Better they face his wrath than you. If they try to point Ikithon as a traitor-“ Eodwulf began.

“They will not leave him to carry out whatever plans he has set in motion. You said the King would not be so much longer, they beleive he means to kill him. To take the throne for himself, is that not so?" Caleb chanced to ask, thumb and forefinger rubbing together anxiously. He could not summon Frumpkin to sooth his anxieties, to help him judge if Eodwulf was truly to be trusted; not unless he wanted to upset Jester and Molly. 

Eodwulf sighed, shaking his head in denial, though his answer was otherwise. "Yes, but Dwendal will not listen to them."

"Of the assassination plot, perhaps not, but there are others that surround the king. May yet listen to reason.” Caleb explained, shifting forward slightly. Eodwulf had already protected him once with Illiad and the papers, had confirmed their suspicions of Ikithon's plan, it should be safe enough telling him this. “There is proof he is a threat to the Empire, causing enemies abroad by his actions. Those documents, the crystals he could not possibly have acquired through normal means. That cannot be ignored.”

“It’s not going to work.” Eodwulf said simply, shaking his head.

“We have proof he stole them.” Caleb countered. “It would be next to impossible for him to hide that fact.”

“Do you though?” Eodwulf asked, a wry smile flickering briefly across his face. He took in a slow breath, grimacing as he closed his eyes briefly. He shook his head before focusing his gaze back on Caleb with a pointed look at the bandages showing from under Caleb’s sleeves. “Your skin shows proof of who has used them. More than myself, more than- than…Astrid…”

Eodwulf took a sharp breath, shaking his head roughly and pushing on. “You worked with Illiad often enough and his hands are all over the residdum. You know Trent’s ways. You would take the fall for the theft.”

Caleb looked down, fingers tracing along the bandage over where the largest scar lay. Eodwulf had a point, one that should have occurred to him as well. Trent favored shifting blame, that appeared to be the whole plan behind the assassination of the king. Blame the Mighty Nine. Of _course_ he would have a contingency plan in the event his horde of crystals, and the theft behind it, were discovered. If the Tal’dorei people called for blood as recompense, it would be his shed; not Trent’s.

“We have nothing then…” Caleb muttered.

“He doesn’t know..” Eodwulf began, wavering as his brow furrowed, the taller mage seeming to struggle with himself for a moment. His expression smoothed out into confusion, head tilting as he looked at Caleb. “Bren? What is- Where is Astrid?”

“Ah… she and Master Ikithon are- are working on a project.” Caleb reminded him, repeating the explanation Eodwulf had given him some minutes ago. “She sent you wearing his image to deal with the council and the complaint about my assignment.”

Eodwulf let out a groan, tone annoyed enough that Caleb almost smiled despite how concerned he was.

“Can these people never read the reports we send them _telling_ them these things?” Eodwulf growled lowly.

“ _Nein_. I think they enjoy having the council come at their beck and call over these slight things.” Caleb replied, amused despite himself. This was the Eodwulf he remembered, the Eodwulf he had grown up with. Though it was so odd to see him replace the older more weighted persona of the present Eodwulf. “Though it did take them several days after my return this time.”

Eodwulf snorted, gaze skimming appraisingly over Caleb again. He paused, confusion returning. “You- how long have you been gone?”

“About a month. I was sent to the Mighty Nine. As part of the peace agreement.” Caleb reminded him gently, amusement vanishing. This was so similar, but so different, to whatever spell had held his own memories from him. He wished he knew how to help.

“We fought… at- outside of Gandre. Did they… We spoke, and I left- after, they- did they-?” Eodwulf remembered, words coming haltingly.

“No. They… they are good people, I think.” Caleb interrupted the question, tone soft. It was almost strange, thinking about it, comparing the current lesser fear to the terror he’d regarded them with upon first meeting the Mighty Nine.

Eodwulf sighed, tension leaving him as he stepped forward to grab Caleb in a hug. “Good, that’s- I worried, what I said, that they would…”

Caleb automatically returned the embrace, burying his face in Eodwulf’s shoulder. He had _missed_ his friend. It was a relief to know that he was a friend still.

It was Eodwulf.

Eodwulf who had always tried to protect him from Ikithon’s anger, had never harmed him before. Always stubbornly refusing to spar with him when Ikithon ordered it, curbing Astrid’s sharp tongue when Caleb inevitably irritated her. His first crush, but later his best friend (besides Frumpkin). There was something unbalanced in him right now, but he was still the same Eodwulf, still trying to help him.

“They did not harm me, even when they were suspicious of me they did not.” Caleb assured him quietly.

Eodwulf stiffened suddenly, pulling away and straightening as he ran a hand through his hair. He muttered to himself quietly, the words lost to Caleb. His eyes were distant and distracted, but soon clarified into a stern coldness. His tone was gruff and demanding; rushed and somewhat clipped as he spoke. “Here. Before I… before I forget again. Do you have something to write with?”

Caleb nodded, drawing out the only writing material he had on him; the bit of charcoal he had purchased in Zadash for Frumpkin’s spell. It was alarming how quickly Eodwulf changed, almost switching personalities. Caleb had watched Eodwulf struggle against it, but it was as futile as Caleb’s struggle to remember about his parents. He wished Jester were here, that the cleric might help Eodwulf the same way she had helped him. Though, whether she would want to, would agree to the request…

Eodwulf took the charcoal before reaching out to grab Caleb’s wrist, tugging the sleeve out of the way as he began carefully writing out symbols on the linen bandages. “These will take you to the circle in Tal’dorei. They might help, might know more. Astrid was there so long… _Be careful._ They will have started their own investigation, I do not know what they may have found, what they will do if you... if you... Trent’s attention is here and Astrid…”

Eodwulf trailed off, releasing Caleb’s wrist and stepping back after a moment. He frowned as he regarded Caleb. “Bren?” Eodwulf’s tone had changed again, confused and worried now. “You’re not supposed to be here, you’ll get in trouble. Go, go. I’ve… I’ve got to find Astrid…”

This time as Eodwulf’s words trailed off he turned to leave, muttering to himself until he reached to door. It wasn’t until he vanished reaching for the door that Caleb recognized the incantation for the invisibility spell. Caleb looked down at the marking Eodwulf had left. They were enough to fill in a teleportation spell and Caleb waited a minute to study them before leaving. He did not want to risk his sleeves marring the sigils during the walk back to the others.

With a steadying breath, he tugged his sleeves over his arms again. It was an effort to adopt the calm indifference that was expected of him, to make himself leave the room and begin a steady pace back to the Mighty Nine. Fjord had already seemed suspicious of Caleb when he'd left to come here, what would he think after Caleb explained the conversation with Eodwulf? Would the others follow suite? Beauregard would be returning from the Cobalt Soul as well, likely having heard enough to distrust him all over again. And he had left _Frumpkin_ there, alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it. Not too disappointing I hope? Caleb gets lucky AGAIN! 
> 
> I'm sure this isn't going to set a bad precedence when he eventually runs into the REAL Ikithon in the wild one day.... *smirky smirks*


	89. Chapter 89

Caleb found the others much as he left them, though Yasha, Nott, and Beauregard had all rejoined the group. Unlike when he’d left, they appeared to be arguing. Or, at least Molly and Beauregard were. Jester stood between them with an annoyed expression on her face as she watched the two, Frumpkin still safe and unharmed in her hands.

Fjord had his chin on one palm watching the two of them shout at each other, Caduceus was still next to the warlock though he appeared to be trying to calm the situation down, Yasha appeared to be simply staying out of it, and Nott was glaring while drinking from her flask. Caleb wasn’t sure what the issue was but, as he approached, he realized it was about himself. And Beau was angry. And far too close to Frumpkin, especially given she was angry about something to do with him.

“But he left his _cat_! He never leaves Frumpkin alone, you know how scared he is we’ll hurt the little fur ball!” Beauregard argued.

“What, so we were supposed to start a fight with the guard, which would piss off the Assembly, which would make it basically impossible to do _anything_ in the city, much less-“ Molly countered.

Caleb didn’t think, didn’t stop to really listen to what she was saying, just reflexively clicked his fingers, sending Frumpkin away from the angry monk. He winced as Jester immediately let out a panicked cry, reaching over to grab Molly.

“Ah, gods damn it-“ Molly began to snarl, brows furrowing with anger.

“S-sorry…” Caleb interrupted, drawing the purple Tiefling’s attention before he could get too furious. He should have known better, hadn't even thought... He had to hold back a flinch as Beauregard whirled around to face him as well. “I didn’t- ah, sorry…”

“Oh, Caleb, don’t scare me like that!” Jester cried out, taking a few quick steps towards him and throwing her arms around his shoulders in a hug. Caleb tensed in frozen fear for a moment, the contradiction of her words and actions clashing with his expectations of what usually followed a mistake on his part. No pain came, however, just a tight embrace. Unsure what else to do, he jerkily patted her on the back in reciprocity. It seemed to be the correct response as she then pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looked him over.

“Are you alright? Not hurt at all?” Jester asked worriedly.

Molly was drawing closer too and was not angry, Caleb realized, but worried as well. He focused his attention on Jester, answering her question. “I, ah, I am uninjured.”

“You were gone for a while, everything go okay?” Molly asked.

“Y-yes, it, ah, I- I c-can explain, if-“ Caleb stammered, stumbling over his words as Fjord and the others approached as well. He glanced around at the afternoon crowd around them; not extremely dense given their location in the city, but far too many to keep track of if they wished to have an important discussion.

“We should find somewhere quieter.” Fjord drawled. “Or, why don’t you cast that mansion of yours, seeing as our rooms here are no longer available.”

“Of- of course, where-“ Caleb began, falling silent as Molly interrupted.

The blood hunter was glaring at Fjord, though his words seemed to be to Caleb. “You _don’t _have to if you don’t want. We can find somewhere else to stay.”__

__“I don’t mind.” Caleb replied quickly, both to forestall an argument between the two and to reassure Molly. It was a wish come true; he’d been wanting for the past few days now to stay in the safety of the mansion. Now he need not even ask and, all the better, he would be pleasing Fjord simply following the warlock’s orders._ _

__“You’re sure?” Beau was the one to ask, a frown on her face as she studied Caleb._ _

__Caleb’s gaze flickered over to her as he nodded. “Yes, Beauregard.”_ _

__“Well, I don’t think we should stay here.” Nott insisted, looking pointedly over to their previous lodgings and the owner who was back out front and glaring at them while muttering to two others._ _

__“Nott’s right.” Jester agreed. “We don’t want to come out of that mansion to find the door surrounded with crowns guard just because that guy doesn’t like us.”_ _

__“Let’s go then.” Fjord growled, grabbing his own belongings and stalking off._ _

__Yasha put a hand on Molly’s shoulder as the Tiefling opened his mouth to make some scathing comment, effectively stopping him. They traded a look for a long moment, then Yasha followed after Fjord. Caduceus stepped forward to follow, glancing back at the rest of them. “Jester, if you wouldn’t mind messaging use when you find somewhere? We’ll meet up with you there, okay?”_ _

__“Okay, good luck!”_ _

__Caleb followed Jester, Molly, Beau, and Nott silently for a while, considering. It was only an hour after midday, the group had gotten an early start, so they still had the majority of the day in front of them. Then the full day tomorrow before the celebration began the next day. It wasn’t much time, not if the Nine decided they wanted to investigate where it was in Tal’Dorei the teleportation circle led. If he were to cast the mansion spell today, he would still have enough energy (and just enough components) to cast the teleportation spell to get them to the other continent and back. All within today if they so wished._ _

__He would be next to useless if it came to a fight, left with relatively minor spells at his disposal, but he believed the entire point was to _avoid_ a fight._ _

__So long as the circle did not lay on the complete opposite side of Tal’Dorei, the time difference should not be too great, they could make the trip today, or even in the morning, and still return with plenty of time to spare before the event._ _

__“Molly.” Caleb spoke, surprised at how quickly the blood hunter dropped his current conversation to turn his attention to Caleb. He hesitated a moment to continue as Molly moved to walk beside him. “Ah… Could I- would it be possible, perhaps, to- ah, to place the mansion near the Tangles?”_ _

__“Why? You find out something?” Beauregard asked, slowing slightly to walk next to Caleb._ _

__“I- of… of sorts, yes.” Caleb answered. “If it is something you wish to, ah, to look into?”_ _

__“It got something to do with a certain underground area?”_ _

__Caleb inclined his head in silent agreement to Beau’s near whispered question._ _

__Jester clapped her hands together, looking up slightly as she apparently decided that was the new decision set in stone and was messaging Caduceus. “Hey, Caduceus, we’re staying over by the Cobalt Soul by the secret entrance, okay, are you guys okay, do we need to come find you?”_ _

__Beau groaned at Jester, but waited with the others to hear the reply, which Jester announced a moment later. “They are fine and will meet us there as stealthy as possible.”_ _

__“Should we be sneaky too? Caleb you can turn people invisible, right? Can you get all of us?” Beau asked._ _

__“I can turn myself invisible.” Nott reminded them._ _

__“Ah, yes. But, I would- if you wish to have, ah, options later, I would only be able to cast the spell on three of us.” Caleb replied._ _

__“That’s fine, I’ve been over there for long enough the past few days no one will look twice.” Beau said assuredly. Just so long as they didn’t run across a certain asshole on the journey, she figured it would be fine. “Come on, this way.”_ _

__Beau led the down a side road, taking another couple of turns until they were well away from the crowds._ _

__Caleb glanced between Jester and Molly for permission, drawing out his components at their assenting nods. Nott vanished under her own invisibility spell a few moments before he finished his, leaving Beauregard seemingly on her own in the alley._ _

__~~_ _

__The journey to the Tangles didn’t take long and Beau led them around the main grounds of the Cobalt Soul to avoid running into anyone that might have any reason to stop and talk to her. Finding the hidden entrance was simple as well, though she and Nott took a little while scouting out a secluded and semi hidden area for Caleb to caste the mansion spell._ _

__While Caleb did that, Jester messaged Caduceus again and gave him more specific information on how to find them. Just under two hours after Caleb had rejoined the group, they were all gathered in the mansion back in the same room they’d had discussion in last time._ _

__Explaining the interaction between himself and Eodwulf, skimming over what had led up to him realizing it was Eodwulf, was an anxiety riddled retelling that Caleb did not enjoy. He was far too worried about how they would react. Molly was immediately displeased hearing about Caleb following Trent to a private room, despite it turning out to _not_ be Ikithon and Caleb was not harmed at all, obviously putting two and two together and not liking what he was imagining _could_ have happened. A frown crossed Caduceus’ face as well, though Caleb thought it was more of concern than anything else._ _

__Fjord’s suspicion remained, however Caleb was thankful the dark anger wasn’t quite as present in the Warlock during the retelling. Beau was surprisingly calm, curled up next to an equally calm Yasha. Nott and Jester were almost amusing, leaning forward with interest and all but hanging off every word Caleb spoke. It was to them he directed most of his attention, finding it easier to continue speaking against the nervousness of everyone else’s reactions._ _

__“Do we want to check it out now? The banquet is the day after tomorrow… do we have time?” Jester asked as Caleb finished explaining._ _

__“I could teleport us there and back again today, so long as I do not need caste any other, ah, stronger spells in between.” Caleb told her. “On the return journey, I could bring us either to the Cobalt Soul or the circle under the castle.”_ _

__After a beat of hesitation, because it was within his capability and Beau had once suspected him of it, he added. “Or the Assembly.”_ _

__“To be honest, the one under the castle will be safer.” Beau tossed out. “Especially with the mansion relatively close outside.”_ _

__“If we do that, we might want only some of us to go, the rest stay behind it keep an eye on the circle, make sure there are no surprises on the way back.” Fjord suggested._ _

__“Not to mention, you might not be the best choice for a diplomatic mission right now.” Molly teased, giving him a short grin._ _

__“Ha ha, funny Molly.” Fjord snorted as he rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on his face. He’d calmed down during the short walk with Caduceus and Yasha, so Molly’s normal sass was comforting, in a way. He shook his head, returning to a more serious tone. “We don’t want it to seem like we’re invading or trying to steal anything. Or cover anything up, so it might be best not to have too many go.”_ _

__“Jester is the only other one besides Caleb who can send the message spell. If we need to warn them not to return.” Caduceus said, giving Jester an apologetic look._ _

__“Oh… man… I wanted to go to Tal’Dorei…” Jester complained, crossing her arms and sighing._ _

__“Could just be me and Caleb.” Beau suggested. “Not sure what their deal is over in Tal’dorei, might be safer?”_ _

__“No way.” Molly objected. “Tal’dorei can’t be any worse than here, and we all manage just fine.”_ _

__“Okay, well. If we’re going for a low profile, trying not to start anything…” Beau considered, leaning forward to brace her elbows on her knees. “We can play it official like. Me and Caleb representing the Empire-“_ _

__“Think they'll buy a representative from Xhorhas?” Molly jumped in, smirking at her. “Damn wars been going on long enough the whole world knows about it, probably knows about the peace too. Even if they’re all probably taking bets on how long it lasts…”_ _

__"Okay, so diplomatic might not be the way to go..." Beau snorted. "We can figure that part out when we get there."_ _

__“We found all the traps from this side of the tunnel, and Nott knows how to disarm them and rearm them once we’re past.” Fjord said, paying little attention to their discussion of how to approach whoever they might find in Tal'Dorei. He was more concerned with the circle here and making sure the three of them could get back. “We can go in, make sure no one is around, Caleb can use that circle to get you there and we’ll all hold down the fort until you come back.”_ _

__“And if someone shows up, I will let you know not to come back just yet.” Jester chimed in helpfully._ _

__“If we run into a problem there, my dimension door spell can only move myself and one other…” Caleb warned, glancing over worriedly at Molly. “I- I do not mean to suggest that- that you should not come, but… If retreat is favored over fighting…”_ _

__“Then you grab Molly and bamf out, I’m fast as fuck, I’ll be fine.” Beau ordered; tone smug. “Message me where to find you, start making the spell to get us home, and I’ll jump in last second.”_ _

__“Yeah, _nothing_ could go wrong with that plan…” Fjord scoffed._ _

__“Should we do this today? Now?” Yasha asked, redirecting the conversation before it could devolve into picking apart something that they all hoped wouldn’t even be part of the plan at all._ _

__“It’s either now or never.” Molly replied, shrugging. “If we find something over there, help or proof or whatever, we’ll probably need the day tomorrow to rework our plan of attack-”_ _

__“Work on it at all you mean…” Fjord muttered._ _

__“And if it’s a trap, or there’s nothing at all, then we’ve only wasted the rest of today.” Molly finished, making a face at Fjord but not commenting on his mini interruption._ _

__“I do not thing Eodwulf would lead me into a trap.” Caleb offered, voice only shaking slightly at giving his unsolicited opinion._ _

__“Maybe not you, but what about the rest of us.” Beau countered._ _

__Caleb dropped his gaze, tense but answered anyway. She didn’t’ sound angry or suspicious, just…curious. “He would- would know that I would be the one casting the spell, that you would bring me in order to do the same to return.”_ _

__“You trust him? Certain it’s not a trap?”_ _

__Caleb’s brow furrowed in surprise, glancing up at Beau. He didn’t see how his opinion of Eodwulf really mattered, ultimately it was their decision, but he nodded anyway. “As… as I explained, he had chance enough to reveal parts of your plan to Ikithon, the lies I had told to Trent. He has not, he is… something is wrong with him, similar to how I could not remember… but he means to help, I believe.” Meant to help _Caleb_ at least, but in this case that coincided with helping the Nine._ _

__Beau nodded once, turning back to the rest of them. “I’m game then. What about you Molly?”_ _

__Molly grinned at her, glancing at Caleb and nudging him with his shoulder slightly. “I’ve always wanted to travel. I say let’s do it.”_ _


	90. Chapter 90

Percival had learned to accept many things as the years passed and he grew older.

He accepted the increasing aches and pains that came with age, likely made worse by his adventurous past. He accepted the teasing from his wife for the wrinkles that had appeared on his face. He accepted that some things were beyond controlling, his lively children a living example of that (naturally they got it from their mother’s side), and he loved them all dearly, fiercely.

He regretted, but had come to accept, that his invention, those damned guns, were out in the world now. Try as he might, and try he had, there was not putting that cat back in the bag. He had to live with that.

He thought about that every so often, mostly when he was cleaning, packing, or using his own pistol or rifle. When training the Whitestone riflemen on the days he was feeling nostalgic or simply had free time. Currently, he was packing, carefully loading the weapon with a slow thoughtfulness that neither battle nor his impetuous youth had granted him.

“Leaving again, Percy dear? Kiki didn’t agree to watch the kids for the week just so I could stand around and watch you brood over there.”

Percy looked up, smiling wryly at Vex’ahlia. She had aged so much better than he, the years showing on her face yet not as deeply as his own thanks to her half elven blood. “Only for a few hours.”

The one thing Percy had never learned to accept; a mystery, someone stealing from him, and worse stealing such an important product that was the cornerstone of his family and city’s legacy.

It had started out inconspicuous enough, not even noticeable unless one looked. It had taken him a while to trace back when it had started, an embarrassing twelve years ago. The residuum crystals were a main export of Whitestone, quickly exceeding the export of the material of their namesake, and were sent all across Tal’Dorei and even beyond. The mystery began, at first, with some of those shipments lacking a few pieces of Residuum upon arrival.

It was easy enough to explain as human error, sometimes the quantity few enough that it had not been report by the buyer until inquiries were made. At the time, it had not been brought to Percy’s attention. Tracking the discrepancies now, it added up to an impressive sum leading up to the escalation of six months ago.

Shipments began not making it to their intended destination.

It was not each shipment, and never the larger shipments accompanied by a greater number of guard. No, it was small quantities that vanished; a crate from this caravan, two from the other, the entirety of one shipment. Percy had been informed of this, but beyond adding additional guard to the shipments, there was little to be suspicious about. Bandits were a fact of life. Pirates on the seas were a fact of life. He increased those sent to guard the Residuum and it seemed to resolve the matter for a time.

And now, within the past few weeks, they had discovered Residuum missing from within Whitestone itself.

That was close to home, right under his nose in fact, and was what had brought the entire matter to Percival’s attention. Why the rest of it had not been brought to his attention earlier was another mystery, one for after the thief had been caught.

“Perhaps I will get lucky this time, bring back something interesting.” Percy teased, reaching over to brush Vex’s hand when she stepped up next to him.

“You’d get luckier staying here.” Vex shot back, giving him a smile and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Percy laughed, putting the gun in its holster and turning to take her in his arms. It was rare they had time to themselves, even now that their children were older and often wanting to do their own thing. Still, despite having plenty of time this week for them to spend alone together, the mystery still pulled at Percy. “I promise not to be gone long. I only want to see if there has been anything new turn up. I’ll be back before dark.”

~~

Caleb, Beauregard, and Molly arrived in what looked and smelled like a musty cellar. The journey to the cavern under the castle in Rexxentrum had been simple and uneventful. They knew where the traps were, found nothing new added, and had found the cave much as they had left it before. Fjord and the others had set up to keep watch while Caleb had spent the time and materials to activate the teleportation circle.

It was near pitch black, though that soon changed as the doorway opened to let in a stream of light. The cellar was not as empty as they might have hoped, the light revealing four guards, all with long muzzled guns trained on them. They had likely been warned of the three’s arrival when the circle on the floor lit up during the casting of the teleportation spell. From the doorway an older human with shock white hair and glasses stepped carefully down the few wooden stairs towards them.

“Isn’t this a lucky bit of timing. Which one of you is the mage?” The white-haired human asked, expression politely neutral though he also held a gun trained on them.

Caleb shifted slightly, taking a half step forward after short tense silence. “I-“

The man’s gaze snapped over to Caleb, making a quick movement as he tossed a little iron ball into the air towards Caleb with a sharp order. “Manners.”

Caleb barely had a chance to blink before the ball flew towards him, unwinding into iron bands that wrapped around him, snaking around his body and effectively binding and gagging him. The impact, and the automatic flinch from having something thrown at him, was enough to unbalance the wizard, and he grunted as he fell to the ground.

Molly snarled in fury, uncaring of the gunmen as he instantly moved to kneel beside Caleb, glaring at the one responsible. He had one hand on the pommel of a scimitar, though he kept himself from drawing the blade.

“At least you have the sense to tell the truth so far, let us continue with that honesty. That is not going to hurt him, but I’d rather have a discussion without any nasty surprises. The last foreign mage I had the misfortune of dealing with was, frankly, an untrustworthy bitch.” The man explained calmly, lowering his weapon and holding up a hand towards his guards as silent order to hold. Molly’s quick movement had put a couple of them on edge. “My name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III, Lord of Whitestone, and I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

“Yeah, we do, and we’ll gladly return it.” Beauregard replied, balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to move for all that this would be a freaking short fight if it came to it. Ten seconds in and already this guy had incapacitated Caleb. “But we didn’t steal it, and we’d kinda like to have a conversation first, explain what happened.”

“By all means, explain away.” Percival said simply, adjusting his glasses and folding his arms as if he had all the time in the world.

“Mind letting Caleb go?” Molly snapped, already regretting it was just the three of them. He hadn’t expected this to lead them into an ambush.

“If I’m satisfied with what you have to say.” Percival replied evenly.

“We’re from the Dwendalian Empire.” Beau explained, knowing Molly was in no mood to be as polite as was probably required in this situation. Honestly, she was surprised he hadn’t already started a fight given what this Percy guy had just done to Caleb. “The one responsible for stealing those crystals-“

“Residuum, but go on.” Percival corrected.

Beau resisted the urge to roll her eyes, the smug tone grating, but she continued anyway. “His name is Trent Ikithon, he’s basically a traitor and we’re trying to stop him. We found his stash, found out the symbols to get here, and here we are. We don’t want a fight, we’re trying to prevent one. Trent has the King wrapped around his finger somehow, so if you want to negotiate some repayment, I’d suggesting waiting until after we deal with him.”

“I think you can explain a little better than that.” Percival scoffed, finding far too many missing details in that story.

“We’ll answer whatever questions you want, but Caleb knows more about some things than we do.” Beau stated, glancing worriedly at where Caleb was still bound, Molly’s tail flicking in a slow predatory way as he still glared at Percival. For once, it looked like it might not be her that completely fucked up the chance to talk their way out of something.

Percy inclined his head in agreement. Taking them back to the castle and questioning them individually, making sure they were telling the truth, was certainly part of his plan. Besides, Vex would be quite unhappy with him if he didn’t let her have some fun too.

He approached Molly and Caleb carefully, unworried of the Teifling’s blazing glare, he trusted his men to watch his back, and instead focused on the bound wizard. Percy’s tone brooked not argument as he spoke, lifting an eyebrow at Caleb. “No magic, understood?”

Percy paused for a moment as Caleb struggled to nod his agreement through the bindings, then lifted a hand. “Manners.”

The bands uncoiled from around Caleb, twisting themselves back into a small sphere on the ground next to the mage. Caleb flinched away from Percival as the man reached down to pick up the device, scrambling back before coming to a stop pressed next to Molly. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was about this man; perhaps it was the cold fury, the calm tone and strict control **despite** the anger Caleb could almost feel simmering beneath, the fact that _this_ man was responsible for making the residuum, how he had effortlessly put Caleb at his mercy….perhaps all of those things. Caleb didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

It was like meeting the Nine all over again. This wasn’t a battle where he was allowed fight back (despite how outmatched they were right now anyway). This was social politics, the whole point of coming here was to _prevent_ a fight, and Caleb wasn’t _good_ at those; he had only ever been used as a pawn, a bargaining tool, in any of those type interactions. Molly and Beauregard would not treat him that way, but these people might. King Dwendal _would_ , had done so by giving him to the Mighty Nine not even a month ago. His entire existence under Ikithon’s teaching had revolved around being useful; this was nothing new, yet no less frightening.

He was the student of the one who’d stolen from them, what if they demanded retribution be taken on him? The King would accept if only to keep from risking war with their nation. What was Caleb’s life worth in the face of that?

It was small comfort when Molly wrapped an arm around his shoulder, helping him stand. He kept silent, not wanting to risk speaking again, being bound again. He did not know the standing of magic users on this continent, but he could only guess it was little better than in the Empire. Going by Percival’s tone and strict ‘no magic’ orders, _he_ at least likely did not view them favorably.

“Let’s go have a discussion, shall we?” Percival suggested, his guards circling around Beau, Molly and Caleb to escort them along. They were brought out of what turned out to be little more than a basement of a shack out in the woods. There was an encampment set up not too far away which was where they were led. Percival left them to the guards for a while, his men relieving Beau of her staff and Molly of his swords in the meantime.

Having apparently left some orders to whoever was in charge, Percival returned and the group began walking once more. It was almost an hour’s journey before the city of Whitestone came into view. Mountains walled the opposite side of the city, a light mist floating and mingling with smoke from chimney’s over the rooftops of the city proper. Beyond that, atop a large hill, sat an impressive castle made of alabaster stone that overlooked the city.

None of them were given much time to look as they were brought through the town, the guards ushering them toward the castle after Percival. When they arrived, Percival split off from them, having already given orders where they were to be taken. Caleb would be taken to the section of the Ziggurat they’d repurposed into cells, specifically designed to hold magic users. For all the magic draining orb reminded him at times of what they’d lost during that last adventure, it was so very useful in keeping a mage in custody.

The other two appeared not to possess magic, so they did not need that additional precaution. As well, the brief observation of them made him think it would likely be better to keep them further apart. Should they manage to escape, better they have to spend time trying to find their companion rather than being able to all flee together. It would make recapturing them so much easier if they did not get far.

Vex’ahlia was braiding her hair when he entered their bedroom, the half elven ranger sitting with one leg crossed over the other in a luxurious chair in front of the grand mirror. She spared him a short glance, lifting an eyebrow in surprise. “Back so soon darling? I’d thought I had a few more hours, at least.”

Percy chuckled, moving up behind her and wrapping his arms around her as he looked at Vex in the mirror. “You look lovely as always dear. I should warn you though, we have a few guests.”

“Really? Who-“ Vex paused, pulling away to turn and face Percy fully as she recognized that look in his eyes. “You found something?! Some _one_?”

“Three someone’s. From the Empire, apparently. Chasing proof about some traitor and would be assassin.” Percy explained. He’d known Vex would be just as excited as he for this new trail in the mystery. He stepped back, extending a hand in invitation. “I thought we might divide and conquer? Two humans and a Tiefling. Jared could speak to one, we can compare notes?”


	91. Chapter 91

Molly paced, furious and worried and… and…

Damn it, how the hell had this gone so wrong?!

He was unchained at least, the room he was in bare but not the dank iron dungeons that probably existed, yet for all that he knew perfectly well he was still a prisoner. It had been nearly an hour (at least he thought it might have been, he didn’t have a way to really tell) and damned De Rolo hadn’t shown his face again.

Which wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been for the pale near desperate expression on Caleb’s face when the Whitestone guards had dragged them all in three different directions. Who the hell knew what Caleb was imagining, what his ‘training’ would lead him to do. Fuck, Molly didn’t even know what the De Rolo’s would do, he had no clue about them or what kind of people they were. Caleb probably knew the most about them, and so far he’d seemed _terrified_ of Percival.

He knew Beau could take care of herself, he was confident of his own ability to deal with whatever might lay in store, but Caleb… Dammit, if they so much as _touched_ him…

Molly stopped pacing as the door clicked open, the same white-haired human entering the room with a self-important air. He turned to face Percy as he tried, and failed, to keep his hands from balling into fists.

“Where’s Caleb?”

“Securely contained.” Percy replied easily, not at all perturbed by Molly’s foul mood. “I have one of your names. Now, who are you?”

“Contained where, what have you-“

“I answered your question, the polite thing to do would be to answer mine.” Percy interrupted smoothly. He was not going to stand here and repeat his questions over and over only to be ignored. He wanted answers, didn't trust these people and barely believed them at current. His ‘guest’ needed a gentle reminder of who was in charge and Percy wasn't above using an obvious sore point to drive that reminder home. “Of course, if you’re not feeling so cooperative anymore, I can just as easily motivate Caleb to share.”

Molly narrowed his eyes, tail lashing quickly behind him. He was quiet for a long minute, jaw clenching as he fought with himself. Percy could tell he'd made his point, and well. The Tiefling’s tone was anything but friendly as he finally answered. “Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“Mollymauk. A pleasure to meet you.” Percy stated, coldly polite. He had Molly’s attention now, even if he wouldn’t have followed through with the implied threat in that statement. Not without due cause. “I believe the woman…”

“Beauregard.” Molly ground out in answer as Percy paused.

“Beauregard, thank you. She promised answers. So, tell me. If you are not responsible for stealing my Residuum, haven’t brought it with you to return it, and you are not acting as representative of the Empire, what are you doing here?” Percival inquired.

“Like Beau said earlier, looking for something to help prove Ikithon is a traitor while at the same time making sure the war doesn’t start back up, or a new one start.” Molly explained shortly.

“How did you find out this Trent Ikithon is the responsible party?”

Molly swallowed a sigh, rubbing his forehead in frustration. This was not at all going according to plan. Though, to be fair, their plan had been half baked at best. They couldn’t even really blame their current predicament on Eodwulf, Caleb _had_ told them that the other mage had warned him to be careful. True to Eodwulf’s suspicion, the Tal’Dorei people had their own investigation going.

And... honestly, he got why Percy was suspicious of them, he really did. Three rag tag people drop in the middle of your investigation into theft of what was an impressive sum of **very** expensive items? Yeah, Percy was pissed. Take that and the fact that they were three random nobodies so far as Percival was probably concerned and their story probably didn't hold much credit. Nobles were prickly like that and its why Molly’d gotten along so much better with the carnival folks and the Nine. They didn’t care about pedigree.

Understanding or not though, Percy was being an asshole and it was irritating Molly. Pissed him off too, because Percy had basically threatened to torture Caleb for information and now Molly couldn't help but wonder just what they hell they were _actually_ doing to the wizard right now. He was reluctant to share details, even if that was the entire point, but equally reluctant to hold too much back. “We were chasing down a rogue mage, making sure they didn’t cross the border to cause trouble, one thing led to another and the guy in charge let slip that there was a plot to kill the king. On the way back to the capital, there’s plenty of evidence to suggest that _something_ has been going on. We got to Rexxentrum, started poking around, came across the horde of Residuum.”

“And this points to someone other than yourself, how?”

“Trent’s the rogue mage’s former teacher, current teacher I guess, superior. Something, he gives him orders anyway, it’s… weird with him. But that is how we know who’s behind the plot, and Trent’s in charge of the mages, and they’re the ones who can use those crystals of yours.” Molly explained sourly, still extremely unhappy. “He doesn’t speak for the Empire, doesn’t have the Empire’s best interest in mind, and I don’t want to have to fight in another war again. None of us do, so here we are trying to make things right.”

“Seems strange someone of your heritage would be so adamant to protect the Empire. I had thought they- Well… Zahra has always described her visit there with the most colorful words.”

“It’s not my favorite place to be, especially not in the bigger cities, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch towns being burned, villages razed, and innocents die as armies march across the country.” Molly retorted, a bitter note to his voice. He’d seen it already in ten long years of fighting; it was impossible not to have done. Even before he’d joined the Nine and gotten involved seeking peace, the aftermath of war and fighting had been all around him.

“Besides that.” Molly continued. “It’s Beau’s home, and Caleb’s. They care about it and if they care, so do the rest of us.”

“The rest of us?” Percy inquired.

“Back in Rexxentrum. There’s this cavern under the castle, which is where the crates of your residuum are by the way, and we’re assuming the king doesn’t know about it. It’s got the other teleportation circle, it’s where we plan to go when we transport back. Our friends are keeping a watch on it, make sure it’s clear when we’re ready to return.” Molly explained.

“How many crates are there?”

Molly shrugged, unsure. “No idea, I didn’t count them. Maybe twenty. At most.”

“Tell me about this Trent Ikithon.”

Molly suppressed a sigh, resigning himself to answering questions. Hopefully, Percy would realize they were cooperating, were actually decent people and trying to do a good thing, and would stop treating them like prisoners soon. Of course, that went with an assumption that Percival was a decent human being and wasn’t going to try and twist this to gain some kind of advantage. Either way, he didn't have much choice except to answer the man's questions.

~~

Beauregard surprised herself with how calm she was being.

She was pissed, for sure, worried about Caleb and Molly, but when the guard left her alone in the room they’d brought her to, she just placed herself at the opposite end and settled in to meditate. Molly could take care of himself, Caleb was hella powerful when he decided to fight; but if either of them were hurt Beau was going to rain some serious hell down on these people. And she didn’t care what happened to her during or after. You didn’t fuck with her family and walk away.

Trent would find that out soon enough.

When the door finally opened, it wasn’t Percival whatever the fuck was all the rest of his names that walked in. It was an older human, probably around the same advanced age as Percival, though he didn’t show it as much. He was dark skinned, darker even than Dairon, with short jet black hair that was heavily peppered with grey and white. He wore a studded leather armour, so not a politician then, with a short sword hanging from his belt. Atop the armor lay a uniform of dark greys and blues, an insignia on his right shoulder that seemed to suggest some status.

Beau stood up, giving him a cold look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Jarrett. Who the fuck are you?” Jarett returned instantly, something between a smirk and a grin crossing his features as he stood across from Beau, slightly mirroring her posture.

“Beauregard. Where’s Caleb?” Beau replied, jerking her chin at him in a parody of a nod.

“No idea who that is.” Jarett shrugged, so casually that Beauregard was half a mind to believe him. “Where’s Lord De Rolo’s residuum?”

“Rexxentrum. Caleb’s the mage who brought me and Molly here, where are they?”

“No idea. Why was the residuum stolen?”

“No idea.” Beau snapped sarcastically, eyes narrowing. “Where are my friends?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Jarett repeated. “They didn’t tell me. Just said, go in here and get your story. So here I am.”

“You’re clueless then, great.” Beau snorted. “So, what’s to keep me from kicking your ass and getting the hell out of here?”

“Trust me, I’ve faced dragons, you don’t scare me.” Jarett laughed.

Beau looked him over, lifting an eyebrow. Again, she got the sense he was telling the truth which, frankly, was kind of impressive. You didn’t meet many people who faced dragons and walked away from the encounter.

“Tell you what.” Jarett continued, giving a little conciliatory gesture. “I like you; you don’t seem like a bad person. You tell me why you are here, how you came by the residuum Lord De Rolo’s been after, then I’ll find out where your friends are.”

Beau rolled her shoulders, letting out a sigh. Not like she had much choice, and this was the whole point of coming here in the first place. And since context was helpful, she might as well start at the beginning. “We met this dick, Trent Ikithon, when Caleb was sent to join our group because of the peace treaty…”

~~

This hadn’t been any part of the discussed plan with the Nine, and Caleb wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do.

He knew what was probably about to happen; Lord De Rolo wanted answers and he would do what it took to get them. Caleb did not think the man had believed them back at the shack, or if he had he certainly would have additional questions. Especially as Beau had made mention that Caleb knew more.

Of course they would question him.

Caleb looked up as the door to the cell he had been placed in opened, a female half elf entering the room. He kept his gaze carefully neutral as the woman approached, focusing on breathing evenly and not showing any of the anxious trepidation he felt. He had been trained for this, being interrogated, knew he could withstand quite a lot without giving any information. Except… the whole point had been to inform them of things, to find out what they knew, but Caleb did not know what _he_ was allowed to reveal. 

Master Ikithon would have given him explicit instructions to what he could say, what he needed say, and what he should not say; it would have been his task to make the interrogator believe his words as truth. The suffering between revealing the information was what he had been taught to endure, to make it more believable when he told them what he had been instructed.

The Nine had seemed to want to tell the truth to the Tal’dorei people, but that didn’t mean they would want to tell them _all_ the truth. Mollymauk had given him no instructions on what questions he should or should not answer, what information should be volunteered, what they should believe had been extracted from him. How was he supposed to answer questions if he did not know what Molly wanted him to say. Was he meant to simply remain silent? How much information was too much? He did not know; he could not risk failing this, there was too much riding on it.

Caleb let out a silent breath, making his decision as he began distancing himself from his own senses, letting thought and feeling fade into the background. Endure, as he had been taught. It was just another training exercise with Master Ikithon and Astrid, it was only pain. He would need to get used to it again if he was given to these people.

Caleb looked up as she spoke, focusing numbly on the wall over her shoulder.

“Alright, darling. Let’s have a little talk, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly & Percy : **Not** getting along  
> Beau & Jarett: Getting along surprisingly well  
> Vex & Caleb: error file not found


	92. Chapter 92

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all who might be disappointed we are not starting this off with Vex questioning Caleb, my reasoning is simple. Hard to be motivated to write a one side conversation; because Caleb is just cold shoulder saying/doing/showing NOTHING, because Trent taught him better than to give even a slight opening. Imagine, as you will, the scene of her growing puzzlement when absolutely _nothing_ she does has any affect.

Percy left the room that currently housed the lavender Tiefling, closing the door behind him and nodding to the guard standing next to it before turning and walking away. Molly’s story was certainly interesting, even if the man himself was an annoying little bastard. It all reminded him of many of the ventures with Vox Machina. He had to wonder how much was truth. They were fairly famous, it wasn't entirely out of the question that Molly's explanation was embellished to try and find common ground. He would see how much of that story the others would replicate too perfectly in an attempt to make them believe the narrative, find any potential lies in that manner.

Jarett soon came into sight, approaching from where they had put the monk. He didn’t look any worse for wear, so Percy guess that the woman was at least being as cooperative as the Tiefling. It was a nice change of pace, cooperative thieves. Or not thieves, if their story was to be believed.

The two of them compared notes and Percy was interested to hear that the Beau had also immediately asked where Caleb was. They didn’t appear as worried for each other, but only for the mage. He couldn’t say for sure about the monk, but he got the sense from Molly it wasn’t just because the Caleb was their ride home.

Their discussion was soon interrupted by Vex’ahlia’s appearance some time later. Percy sighed at her expression, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. “I take it your conversation was not so interesting as ours?”

“Not even remotely.” Vex scoffed.

Percy smiled, replacing his glasses as he looked at her. “I trust he is behaving himself, at least?”

“You could call it that. He didn’t say a word, not even his name.” Vex stated, shaking her head. By her tone, Percy guessed there was more to it, and sure enough she shared her suspicions. “It was strange though, he looked nervous when I first walked in, but then… I’m not sure. He hardly looked at me, and when he did, I don’t think he really saw me. Didn't move, didn't speak...”

“Odd that these two would be so forthcoming about their reasons for being here, but the mage remains silent. They called him Caleb, back at circle. And asked after him when we spoke to them.” Percy mused with a frown. He shook his head, taking a breath and recounting what he had learned from Molly. Jarett’s information from Beauregard was much the same, with a few differences that were explainable as just being a different perspective. They were the same story, but not so perfect as to sound rehearsed.

“That just leaves the wizard. Should I…?” Percy began, trailing off and glancing at Vex for her opinion.

Vex shook her head. “I don’t think you’ll get anything out of him. What if we put them all together again, see what happens?”

“I think that’s a fair plan.” Percy agreed, looking over at Jarett with a nod. “Bring the other two down to the anti-magic cells.”

Jarett nodded agreement, turning and beckoning to two others to join him in retrieving the two other guests. Percy extended his arm to Vex, giving her a smile. “Shall we?”

The two link arms, strolling unconcerned along the way Vex had just come. The path to the anti-magic chamber was more refined than it had been when it was first made. The chamber itself was split into multiple rooms now, the walls and ceiling no longer rough dirt and stalactites, but properly crafted rooms. The meeting room held comfortable chairs and a table for when they needed to gather with a certainty of privacy. The holding area was not an uncomfortable one, it was not a dungeon with steel bars and chains.

Those were available if needed; but so far, their guests had been behaving themselves and Percy had extended them the courtesy of comfort. Molly and Beau were held in the upper levels of the castle, but it wouldn’t take long for Jarett to retrieve them both.

Caleb was as Vex had left him, still and staring almost vacantly ahead. His gaze flickered up briefly to track their entrance. Percy thought the mage might have tensed as the two of them walked closer, but other than dropping his gaze, Caleb made no movements.

Percy tilted his head in consideration, but with Vex by his side, he didn’t try and question the man just yet, or even get too close. Vex said he wouldn’t get anything out of him right now and he trusted his wife’s judgement. Instead he waited.

Molly and Beau’s arrival were heralded by a stream of hissed curses the instant the two laid eyes on the wizard. Mollymauk looked livid, crimson eyes trained on the mage. He jerked forward, the motion quickly stopped by the guard restraining him. Beauregard was more composed, but Percy could see the anger simmering in her eyes as well.

Interesting.

“The two of you were very forthcoming about your reasons for coming here, which makes me wonder why he…” Percy began in a polite tone, nodding toward the still silent and motionless Archmage. “He hasn’t spoken a word.”

“Gods dammit, Cal-“ Molly began exasperated, tone turning panicked and near desperate as Percy began walking towards Caleb. “ _Don’t_. Don’t you- Fuck, Caleb, just answer him, okay, it's fine, just...”

Caleb lifted his gaze at that, looking over at Molly and watching him for a long moment before turning his attention to Percival who had stopped just out of arms reach. “What do you wish to know.”

Percy lifted an eyebrow, sharing a look with Vex before turning his attention back to Caleb. He seemed out of it, distant… perhaps simple questions would be best to start with. “Where is my Residuum?”

Caleb didn’t answer immediately, instead his gaze flickered over and remained on Molly with the same blank waiting expression.

“Caleb, answer him.” Molly hissed, tone anxious as he watched Percy’s attention shifting between them.

Caleb obeyed immediately, looking back at Percival again as he spoke tonelessly. “Rexxentrum, in a cavern under King Dwendal’s castle.”

“These two claim they were not the ones responsible for the missing Residuum. Who is?” Percy asked lightly.

Again, Caleb looked at Mollymauk, the same distant look in his eyes, silent until Molly gave a sharp nod to encourage him to answer. “Master Trent Ikithon.”

Percy frowned, sharing another look with Vex. This was beyond a rehearsed story on his part, and too obvious besides. Something else was going on here, and Percy did not like the feeling he was getting. Vex tilted her head the slightest toward Molly and Beau, stepping forward and focusing on Caleb.

Percy stepped back to let Vex take over, shifting his attention to watch the reactions of the other two. Vex’ahlia’s tone was gentler than normal as she asked a completely different question, testing the waters. “What’s your name?”

Again, Caleb looked at Molly. Percy’s lips thinned as he watched Beau’s increasingly frustrated expression, the poorly concealed frustration and fear on Molly’s face as well. Percy would guess his comment about ‘motivation’ during their conversation was responsible for the fear. When the Tiefling spoke again, his voice was strained. “Caleb, please…”

Molly was either a very good actor or…

“Caleb, tell me your name.” Vex repeated the question a little more forcefully, timing so that she asked again before Caleb had a chance to obey the Tiefling’s encouragement.

“W-widogast…”

It was the first bit of personality they’d heard in the wizard’s voice since he started speaking, the word thin and whispered. The barest emotion flickering across his face before he dropped his gaze as he let out a short, shuddered breath.

“How long have you been with these two?” Vex asked, shifting closer a bit more.

Caleb was a little quicker to answer, though he again looked toward Molly for a moment as he spoke. “Nearly… one month.”

“Why did you come to Whitestone?”

“We… discovered a conspiracy to kill the king, to re-ignite the war. We seek proof against the one responsible.” Caleb answered. An oversimplification of their purpose, of the list of goals they hoped to achieve. He looked over at Molly as he spoke, anxiously holding the Tiefling’s gaze, searching for some sign of approval or otherwise.

Vex crept closer, crouching down to look him in the face since, beyond looking at Molly, he mainly focused on the floor. Caleb didn’t meet her gaze, carefully looking to the side. He almost cringed away from her; she could see it in how he forced himself to remain still.

Percy shifted to put himself more directly between the two groups, wary of the looks Beau and Molly were giving Vex and Caleb, and the way Molly was again straining to free himself from the guards.

Vex tilted her head regarding Caleb for a moment. “Are they making you say these things?”

“No.” Caleb replied, giving the slightest shake of his head.

“Are you afraid of them?” Vex asked gently.

“…some…sometimes.”

Molly stopped struggling at those words, Percy not missing the flash of hurt that crossed both Beau and Molly’s face. Vex continued, tone soft with her attention fully on the wizard. “Will they hurt you, if we let them over here?”

Caleb looked up at her, glancing over at Beau and Molly before answering. “No.”

Vex nodded, standing up and stepping away from Caleb to make her way over to Percy. Whatever was going on with him, he at least believed that Molly and Beau would not hurt him. And if that slight hint of uncertainty in his answer turned out to be a problem... that’s why she wasn’t leaving them alone. “Darling.”

Percy nodded toward the guards, the two releasing both Beau and Molly who, unsurprisingly, went to Caleb’s the instant they were free. Vex situated herself to be able to keep an eye on them even while she and Percy discussed what should be done next.

Molly tried to be careful coming up next to Caleb, didn’t want to scare him or make him think he was angry. He wasn’t sure how well he achieved that, the distant expression in Caleb’s eyes clarifying into awareness and worry as he watched them approaching.

“Listen, Caleb.” Molly advised quietly, voice little more than a whisper as he glanced worriedly over at where the two De Rolos were speaking in quiet tones. “I know Trent probably taught you not to, but you need to be you right now, okay?

“I- w-weakness is not-“

Molly shook his head sharply, interrupting Caleb and trying to ignore the pang of guilt when Caleb winced. He tried to keep his tone gentle, to not make Caleb think this was an order. The last thing he needed right now was to worry about following orders, to be afraid of failing and imagining an upcoming punishment. “It’s not a weakness, alright, you are not weak. And anyway, hiding it isn’t going to help. If they ask a question, answer it; if it scares you it’s okay to show it. We came here for their help, if they’re a bag of dicks like Ikithon we need to know it _now_.”

“Molly… M-molly, please, I- I am sorry. I’m sorry… I’m sorry, please, I’m- a-are…are you- please, are you going to- to give me to them?” Caleb whispered, voice cracking and breaking as he asked. He couldn’t look up at the blood hunter right in front of him, too afraid to meet his gaze.

Molly almost growled, reaching up to thread his fingers through Caleb’s hair at the back of his head. That? _That_ was what he worried about? Was that why he’d pulled back into himself so much? Molly gently pulled Caleb closer, pressing their foreheads together the same way Yasha used to do with him, when he was new and afraid and unsure.

“ _Never_.”

Caleb closed his eyes, leaning into the touch with relief. Molly wanted him to stay, was not disappointed with his performance today. It would be okay.

“Did they hurt you at all? Are you okay?” Beau asked quietly, still standing sentinel in front of the two of them.

“ _Nein_.” Caleb answered, hesitating slightly with a nervous look at Molly as he spoke the Zemnian word, though he did not try and correct himself. He straightened as Molly released him, turning to look at Beau. “She- she asked questions and did nothing when I did not answer. I- I am sorry, I did not know what you would allow me to- to say…”

“It’s fine.” Beau assured. “We didn’t exactly plan for getting captured and interrogated right off the bat.”

“But we’re not hiding anything, so tell them anything you’re comfortable with, okay?” Molly added.

Caleb nodded, the three of them falling into silence for a few minutes as they waited for the De Rolo’s to reach a decision.


	93. Chapter 93

Percy didn’t trust them.

Of course he didn’t, he was not so foolish. Caleb, perhaps; at least he seemed harmless enough on his own. Certainly the mage behaved differently enough than the liaison the Empire had send last time. And, honestly, the Empire was a mess so far as he’d heard. The war with their Xhorhasian neighbors had only just ended and here were these three saying already there was trouble brewing over there.

Trust was not in the cards right now. But he had to admit, their dynamic was interesting. And concerning on some points.

The monk and the Tiefling were so obviously protective over the mage who, in stark contrast to the female he’d determined was probably actually behind the thefts and who he’d had dealings with before this, was almost subservient in nature. Percy almost felt a little bad for what he’d done earlier with Manners, though he didn’t regret it. Better safe than sorry and it wasn’t worth risking that the wizard’s timidity was an act.

“What do you think, dear?” Percy asked Vex lowly, casting a half glance at their three guests.

“I don’t like it.” Vex frowned, brows furrowed as her eyes never left the three. “Something isn’t right with him, with how he acts. He’s afraid of them ‘sometimes’ he says, but he then said they wouldn’t hurt him when I asked, not that he sounded so sure. And they way he keeps looking to Mollymauk for direction…”

“I meant their story, but yes, I’ve noticed that as well.” Percy chuckled. “What are they saying?”

“It’s hard to tell about Widogast, his accent makes lip reading difficult. But Mollymauk’s talking about Trent having taught him not to do something, that he needs to be himself?” Vex replied, tone lilting up in confusion. “They’re not saying anything about changing their story though, just… making sure he’s alright, telling him to answer whatever he’s comfortable with.”

“They both asked about him as soon as they had the chance. I’d barely walked into the room before Mollymauk was demanding to know where he was. Jarett says Beauregard did the same.” Percy reminded her. “If he’s only been with them a month it might not be them he has issues with, they’re just… dealing with it I would imagine. And they both said that Trent Ikithon was his teacher at the Cerberus Assembly.”

“Then I’m liking him less and less, and that’s before I start believing he’s the one responsible for stealing from us.” Vex said icily. “The one thing I am curious about though, is why? They are valuable, but he wouldn’t have near enough to fund that war that just ended. What was he doing with them?”

“Let’s ask, shall we?” Percy suggested, turning to step toward the gathered three at his wife’s nod.

“Now that we’ve established you’re all likely telling the truth, or at least you all have stories that line up with each other and what we know… Perhaps you could clarify something.” Percy spoke up politely, gaze drifting across the three of them. “You’ve told us Trent Ikithon is the one responsible, we’ll have our own people verify that and see what ‘proof’ might be found. Tell me, what was he doing with the residuum?”

“Storing most of it, from what we can tell. Before that though…” Molly answered, glancing over at Caleb as he trailed off.

Caleb’s gaze flickered up to Molly’s for a moment, and it seemed to Percy he was again checking if it were permissible for him to speak, before carefully continuing Molly’s answer to the question. “He was researching the uses, how to ah…to apply the residuum to arcane use beyond the… replacement for- for components.”

“What kind of use?” Percy pressed.

“Ah, extending the- the limitations of a spell.” Caleb answered shortly, again his gaze flickering to Molly.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Caleb hesitated for a moment, Percy assumed gathering his thoughts as he didn’t seem to be looking for permission from his companions this time. After a minute, he began explaining. “There are… limitations to any spell. Casting time, the number of creatures it affects, duration, and other such things. The… the residuum can be used and applied to exceed those limitations. A message spell sent to two individuals at once, rather than the limitation of one. A- an invisibility spell that would last for…two hours, rather than one. Applied c-correctly, the residuum will make that possible.”

Percy let out a thoughtful hum of acknowledgement for the information, contemplating the variety of uses for that application. It was interesting, a direction he’d never considered taking with the residuum. It sounded dangerous though, so if the notes were not destroyed they would at the very least need to be taken into his possession. It was one thing if the research had been done legitimately, though he would still be wary of it, but given the residuum was stolen Percy reasoned it technically belonged to him.

“How long has he been doing that research?” Vex asked.

“I… do n-not know for certain...” Caleb admitted, shoulders tensing.

Percy frowned at the reaction, at how Beau’s gaze was hyper focused on himself, Molly’s eyes never leaving the wizard.

Possessive or protective, it was hard to tell with how little he knew of them. If Caleb had only been with them for a month, that factored in as well. Beauregard was watching him closely; reasonable as he was closer to them than Vex, but why did the Tiefling focus on the wizard so much? And why did Caleb always look to Mollymauk before speaking. Percy shared a look with Vex, his wife lifting an eyebrow ever so slightly and he knew she saw it just as clearly as he did. Perhaps more so, she’d certainly been able to get the wizard to talk more freely earlier.

“I- H-he began experimenting roughly f-fourteen years ago.” Caleb continued, stammering slightly, accent thick. He was shaking now and, much as he was probably trying to hide it, Percy could tell he was afraid. But why?

“That- t-that is my- it w-was when I first-.”

“Caleb...” Molly muttered lowly; his expression was worried as he reached out to touch Caleb’s arm.

The wizard winced, flinching away a breath later as Molly backed up a step, the blood hunter holding his hands up in surprised.

Percy and Vex took a step toward them out of reflex, Beauregard mirroring their movements. Molly reacted as well, moving in front of Caleb, the wizard being the only one not to put himself on the defensive.

They stood in an awkward standoff for a moment, Percy with one hand on the gun in his holster, most of his attention on the monk who was more a threat to them than Molly without weapons. “And here I thought you weren’t trying to hide anything?”

“We’re not.” Beau stated in a clipped tone.

“Then let him speak.” Vex retorted.

“I’m not trying to keep him from talking.” Molly snapped, frustrated mostly with himself for scaring Caleb, but also at the entire situation. A part of him appreciated Percival and Vex’s concern, assuming that was the reason they’d stepped forward in the first place. Concern would be nice because that would probably mean Percy wasn’t as much of a dick as he had been acting like earlier. “It’s a touchy subject because those experiments were done on _him_.”

Percy frowned, looking back over at Caleb. “ _On_ him?”

Caleb’s hands shook as he rolled up his sleeves and unwound the bandages from his arms, revealing the scars littered across them. “I d-d-did not know they were- I did not have- I am sorry.”

He didn’t move as Percy came closer, didn’t meet his gaze. He’d already moved away from Molly once and, as much as he tried to tell himself it was _fine_ and that Molly didn’t care, every instinct screamed that such disobedience would soon be followed by correction. He needed to get control over himself, stop being such an embarrassing failure. He had become too accustomed to not needing to hide every reaction; it was inexcusable in present company no matter what Molly said.

Caleb was carefully not looking at any of them, focusing on just breathing, on staying still and being _good_ like he was supposed to do. Excuses didn’t matter, though he wished that just this once… they might. He hadn’t known the residuum belonged to Percival, that it had been stolen, wouldn’t have been given a choice even if he had.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Molly growled, eyes narrowed at Percy.

“He’s right, you don’t.” Vex agreed, Beau and Molly giving her twin looks of surprise and suspicion. “Is that how the residuum is used when extending a spell?”

Caleb nodded numbly, drawing in a short breath as Molly carefully drew close enough to touch, taking his wrist and rewrapping the bandages for him. He whispered a thin ‘thanks’, shuffling closer with a wary glance at Percy still nearby.

“How long are you planning on keeping us here.” Beau spoke up again, tone demanding though she shifted her weight to a less aggressive stance. “We _do_ need to be back to deal with that bastard.”

Percy stepped away from Caleb, turning his attention to the monk. “Unless we have a mutual acquaintance to vouch for you, I’d prefer until we verify what you’re saying holds truth, but…”

“When do you need to return?” Vex questioned.

“Our friends are expecting us back today, but if you insist we could message them, tell them it’ll be tomorrow.” Beau answered, tone reluctant as she looked over to Molly and Caleb.

Molly began to nod in agreement but paused to look at Caleb. “Can you send a message spell today?”

“If you wish.” Caleb replied softly, shoulders tensing as he cast another wary look toward Percival.

Percy’s brow drew together in confusion, curious as to why Caleb was looking to _him_ now, as opposed to Molly. Especially as the Tiefling was the one asking him a question-

_No magic, understood._

Ah. Right.

It was nice to be so completely listened to for a change, but it was concerning at the same time. He hadn’t even been _trying_ to intimidate the mage into obedience at the time, just clarifying the risk he ran should he try anything like attacking Percy or his men.

“Why did you say your name is Widogast, when they call you Caleb?” Vex inquired, drawing all of their attention.

Caleb hesitated, casting a nervous glance toward Molly and Beau before answering slowly.” My- my name is Caleb Widogast. Widogast was… was chosen for me. Is how I am supposed to… ah, but I- I chose Caleb.”

“Who chose the other for you?” Vex asked softly.

“Mas- … T-trent Ikithon.” Caleb answered, stumbling slightly over the reply.

“Really?” Beau questioned, tone confused.

Caleb glanced over at her anxiously, hurrying to explain. “It…it is customary, when graduating from the Academy, to choose a new name. S-sometimes. It… it is not always…b-but Nott said- she… she said it was… was okay. W-when she asked why Eodwulf called me Bren.”

Caleb let out a slow breath, looking down and trying to keep himself from shaking. Molly’s murmured reassurances helped, but he still couldn’t suppress the ingrained fear of retribution for such a deliberate defiance. It had been the first real rebellion he’d done; standing before the assembly, declaring his new name as _Caleb_ Widogast when asked.

Trent had been **furious**.

Eodwulf had not been exaggerating when he’d mentioned Trent trying to break him of that. Vex’s earlier demand he give his name had reminded Caleb far too much of many of those sessions with Trent. He’d given the appropriate answer by habit, had learned to appease Ikithon in that way; for all such a weak utterance as he’d given here would have been viciously corrected.

Yet, for as much as Ikithon disciplined him for it, he’d never let go of being Caleb. Had always included that when he was permitted to introduce himself. Much to Trent’s irritation.

“What do you prefer to be called?” Vex asked.

Caleb looked over at her in surprise, not expecting that question. “Ah…C-caleb. I… I prefer Caleb.”

“Caleb then. I’m Vex’ahlia, by the way, but you can call me Vex. I’m sure Percy introduced himself earlier.” Vex said, smiling gently at Caleb. She turned her attention to the other two, nodding toward the door. “Come on then, let’s go back upstairs and Caleb can message your friends if you want.”

Percy frowned to himself as they began making their way out of the anti-magic chambers, only half listening as Vex discussed what their plans might possibly be, even going so far as to get the story from the beginning again; this time from Caleb’s perspective. His narrative was less detailed, shorter and more to the point, but still the same.

Except it sounded… darker. It was nothing specific, Percy might not even have noticed except… he was listening for it. He called this Trent Ikithon ‘master’, and not in a way that sounded like it was a title from his place in the Empire’s government. Even at the beginning of his explanation he described his arrive to the Nine as being ‘delivered’. As if he were just a tool being passed to the next user.

And the way he looked to Molly, and sometimes Beauregard, even now as they all recounted what had led them here. He knew that they had already told him and Vex, yet Caleb still looked to the other two for… something. Approval, perhaps?

Caleb had said he had only been with these two for a month, and they had so far been so careful with him, Percy was willing to rule out them as the reason for the mage’s behavior. Not completely, perhaps, but he suspected the blame clearly lay with Trent Ikithon. A man who had not only stolen from him, but had used _his_ residuum to experiment on _people_ for gods sake. Fourteen years ago Caleb couldn't have been but a teenager, and who knew how long Trent had been doing his experiments. Perhaps he had done so all the way up to Caleb being… being ‘ _given_ ’ to the Mighty Nine.

“I want the research this Ikithon had done, his notes, everything.” Percy demanded suddenly, expression a cold fury as he interrupted the discussion.

The group came to a stop in the corridor, both Beau and Molly looking suspicious and Caleb so carefully neutral it was difficult to tell what he was thinking. Percy looked over at Vex, his wife giving a slight nod, then continued. “We will return with you to Rexxentrum. I want to make sure that things are handled… to my satisfaction. If this is some elaborate plot, you will want to tell us now because if it is and we don’t return, you’ll have the rest of Vox Machina to deal with.”


	94. Chapter 94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is exhausting right now and updates may be slow, but never fear! The story still progresses!

Caleb closed his eyes, blood going cold as Molly and Beau agreed to Percival’s demands. He couldn’t focus as they discussed the when’s and specifics, none of it felt like it mattered. Percy wanted everything. Would that include himself? He was part of that research, those experiments. How long until Molly and Beauregard realized that? What would they do?

_Never_

Molly had said never. He wouldn’t just let them take Caleb, wouldn’t just give him to them. He’d said so. But Caleb still was not sure where that left him. How was he to act around them? Molly had ordered him to answer their questions, to show weakness, but did that still apply now that the De Rolos were allies of sorts?

Trent’s teachings were a tempting fall back, but the Nine had such different expectations and he neither wanted to embarrass them or disappoint them. Where did that leave him in the hierarchy of the new additions to the group. Master Ikithon’s rules in this situation were quite simple. Strangers received a cold indifference, never show weakness, display only the strength and confidence as was expected for one of Master Ikithon and the Assembly’s pupils.

Acquaintances or other Assembly mages would receive the same indifference, though balanced with the respect benefiting a mutual colleague or ally. For any Master Ikithon had called friend, few enough those had been, Caleb had owed them a variety of obedience or deference, so long as it did not contradict Ikithon’s orders or rules. The same applied to the few Assembly members that outranked Ikithon.

None of those seemed to fully apply to this situation, however. He had no guide, no direction on the safe path to travel through this interaction. Molly and Beauregard were not easily angered, but what of Percival and Vex? Molly might not want to give Caleb to the, but what if the King ordered it? If Caleb had already angered them when that-

“You okay?”

Caleb drew in a sharp breath of surprise, opening his eyes at Molly’s whispered question. Percy was speaking to someone new, a dark skinned man with a short sword, while Beau and Vex were having their own conversation.

“We’re not going to let them hurt you. And they damned sure can’t have you.” Molly continued fiercely. “You get to go wherever you want, and if you don’t want to go with them, then you won’t. I don’t care who says you have to. Got it?”

Caleb clenched his jaw, throat tight with an odd emotion as he fought for control of himself. Molly was so sure, so determined. There was an anger underneath as well, yet for once Caleb did not fear it would be turned on himself. Instead it was… comforting. “Thank you, Molly. I… I, ah, got it.”

Beau and Vex approached, forestalling any further discussion between them for the moment. The half elf gestured to Jarrett as he left Percy’s side to join them, explaining. “Jarrett here will look after you, return your weapons and keep you company until Percy and I are ready to leave.”

“More like baby sitting.” Beau muttered gruffly. “I told you, we’re not gonna leave without you.”

Vex gave her a smile, a sharp quality to the expression that wasn't quite threat or warning. She made no comment about Beau's complaints and instead turned to continue down the hallway with Percy.

Jarrett led the three of them to a sitting room of sorts, comfortable and furnished and screaming nobility. Beauregard stuck close to Caleb while Molly wandered the room perusing the various knickknacks and portraits. Both of them radiated a tense unease that only lessened when another guard arrived with Molly’s blades and Beau’s staff.

After that, Beau and Jarrett chatted in an odd back in forth while they waited for the De Rolo’s to show up; Molly taking up a near protective stance near Caleb in place of Beau. Caleb messaged Jester, letting the rest of the Nine know they would be coming back with new friends soon, conveying the cleric's response as it came. The underground chamber in Rexxentrum was still secure, they could return at any time. He and Molly stood in silence for a moment afterward, the blood hunter keeping a wary eye on Jarrett, one claw tapping impatiently on his arm as he glanced toward the door every so often.

“Molly…” Caleb began lowly, voice almost less than a whisper.

Molly shifted closer to the wizard when he trailed off, glancing at him curiously with a low hum of inquiry.

“What… what are the rules, with them?” Caleb asked carefully. He hurried to continue, still speaking quietly, when Molly’s brow furrowed. “I- I know there are… You have said, there are no rules, I- I understand, I do not mean to- to… ah, but… _verdamnt_ … I don’t-“

He didn’t know how to explain it, not simply and quickly, and he didn’t want to discuss it at length. Not here, not when Percival De Rolo could return at any time. He just wanted to know how he should behave around these people. Caleb knew he probably shouldn’t have said anything, Trent’s rules would work well enough until he could get clarification from Molly or the others later, but…

Molly moved in front of him, expression worried as he searched Caleb’s face. “Hey, it’s fine, you can ask what you want. And you’re right, there are no rules.”

“Ah, ja, t-thank you.” Caleb stammered, some of the tension leaving him thanks to the barrier Molly made between himself and Jarrett, and potentially Percival when he returned. “With all of you, yes. But- what about them? You had said… said to answer their questions, does that still apply? Am I to- to obey them?”

Caleb was surprised by the guilt that flashed across Molly’s face, equally surprised by the apology that quickly followed.

“Caleb, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean- that wasn’t an order or anything, I was worried he would-“ Molly shot a glare toward Jarrett, tail twitching irritably as it wasn’t quite the person of his ire. His tone was derisive as he spoke Percy's title, his dislike obvious. “ _Lord_ Percival implied he would...motivate you for answers. I wasn’t about to risk that.”

“Ah… I- ah…” Caleb stumbled over his words. He’d expected that type of interrogation from the beginning and was not surprised Percy had insinuated he would apply such methods, even if confirmation did cause his heart to skip a beat. That Lord De Rolo had implied rather than outright threatened was odd but had apparently been effective given Molly’s continued irritation. Caleb wasn’t sure whether he should thank Molly or apologize for being the reason Molly was still upset.

Molly shook his head, speaking again before Caleb could gather his thoughts. “But once we’re back with the others, or hell, even right now. You can do whatever you want; he tries to so much as touch you, get too close and you don’t want him near you, or even looks at you weird. Just… throw a fireball at him or something. Okay?”

Caleb looked down, flushing slightly. He appreciated the reassurance, what amounted to near permission to fight back if they tried to harm him. It was more than he’d expected, more freedom than Ikithon had ever allowed. He still wasn’t sure what all of the boundaries were… or… No. Beau had said… boundaries were what _he_ made them to be, so… possibly he could try.

“Ah, p-perhaps not a ‘fireball’. That would be, ah, rather explosive?” Caleb quipped anxiously, unable to keep his voice from lilting up in a question. He chuckled nervously at the bad joke, giving Molly an uneasy half smile as he looked back up at him.

Molly let out a laugh, a mix of emotions flashing across his face before it settled on amusement. He grinned, laughter still coloring his tone as he replied. “Wouldn’t be the first time one of us has accidentally blown up someone in the group. You should ask Nott about her and Jester’s first attempt at Fluffernutter. Cad still teases them about it sometimes.”

They listed into an easy silence, Caleb considering Molly's words and Molly keeping an eye on Jarrett and the door. Half an hour or so later, Percy and Vex arrived suited with light armour and weapons, both well used, and Caleb didn’t need a spell to see the obvious magical quality to their equipment. He was slightly less anxious at this point, though that anxiety was returning now the De Rolo’s had rejoined them, but despite that he couldn’t help but stare.

Vex’s bow was a work of art; the handle a tight, dark brown-black leather; the curved, verdant green, jungle vine texture as if the bow were a living breathing creature in its own right. The dragon leather armour was the cherry on top, the material itself a testament to power or wealth. Probably both. Her cloak covered most of it, but that was also ornate enough she could easily fit in with the upper echelon of Rexxentrum if she tried.

Percival’s attire was elegant, as expected for the Lord of Whitestone, the large rifle slung over his back impressive as well, but the cloak… Dark leather and gold trim that seemed to sparkle with blue energy across the shadowed lining. There was a depth to it that shouldn’t be there, like looking at the endless night sky with pinprick stars to light the void.

If these two were so well equipped, Caleb could only imagine what these… Vox Machina… wore as a whole. It was no wonder Percy and Vex were so at ease demanding to accompany them to foreign (and at this point possibly hostile) territory. It would give his warning about dealing with Vox Machina should anything happen to the two of them more weight as well.

The shorter pistol was in a holster at Percy’s side, as it had been thus far, though now the belt was adorned with a few tools and a pouch. Percy gave a nod to Jarrett, tone conversational as he reminded him. “If we’re not back by the time Kiki returns with the kids, let her know where she can find us.”

Jarrett let out a huffed laugh, shaking his head. “Of course. Do come back though, I don’t want to give bad news. That’s your job.”

“Do we need to go back to the circle outside of Whitestone?” Vex asked once Jarett had left, turning to look at Caleb. “We’re more familiar with a different sort of travel and don’t often use teleportation circles.”

“Ah, no. I- I can caste the spell anywhere, so long as the ground is level enough in a six foot circumference.” Caleb replied, glancing at Percy warily. “I can… can teleport us from here, if you wish?” The room didn’t have any rugs or carpets, leaving the floor bare and a large enough to draw the teleportation circle. At Percy’s agreement, Beau moved some of the chairs out of the way for Caleb as he began drawing the circle. The chalk took on a light glow, flaring with arcane light as he completed the final sigil.

One by one they entered the circle, light flaring at their passing, and they were all once again in the dark cavern under the castle in Rexxentrum. Light from Caduceus’ staff illuminated the area, the Firbolg being the first one to step forward to greet them. “Molly, Beau, Caleb. Welcome back, I see the trip was a success.”

“You could call it that. Where’s Fjord and Yasha?” Beau muttered, narrowing her eyes as she looked around. She turned her attention back to Vex and Percy after a quick glance at Caduceus when she asked the question. The De Rolo’s were exploring the small chamber; Vex seeming to be paying the most attention to their conversation while Percival inspected the crates and crystals.

“Fjord and Jester got in a fight.” Nott spoke up from the shadows, appearing next to Molly with little warning. “Yasha decided he should guard the door instead the circle after that. She went with him.”

There was something distinctly unhappy in the goblin’s expression, something Molly gathered was more than just disapproval for whatever Fjord had done to upset Jester. Filing that curiosity away for when they didn’t have two ‘guests’ snooping around, Molly headed over to Jester who stood further away form the circle. “You okay Jes?”

“Oh, yeah yeah, totally. I’m fine.” Jester assured, sniffling slightly and not looking at anyone.

Caleb followed Molly, leaving Beau and Caduceus to make introductions to the two from Whitestone, looking Jester over with obvious worry. “You- you are not injured, are you?”

Jester gave him a tight smile, shaking her head quickly. “No, Caleb, I’m okay. It wasn’t that kind of fight.”

“Ah, that-“ Caleb stopped, letting out a little breath of relief. “I am sorry you argued. Is… is there anything I can, ah, can do?”

Jester shook her head again, still sounding far too sad as she answered. “No, I’m okay. I know he’s having a hard time right now, and he probably didn’t mean it, and it’s fine, really. Thank you though, Caleb, that is very sweet.”

Caleb flushed slightly at her words. He paused for a moment, casting a wary glance towards Percy and Vex, then clicked his fingers to summon Frumpkin. The fey cat appeared across his shoulders and Caleb took a moment to let the familiar warmth sooth his own nerves, then picked him up to offer Frumpkin to Jester. “Ah, would you like…?”

Caleb trailed off as Jester smiled at him, somehow happier before he’d finished speaking. She reached out to pet Frumpkin’s head for a moment, then shook her head to decline the offer. “It would make me much happier if you let Frumpkin stay with you. He looks so cute with you! Here!”

Caleb stood still and watched in slight confusion as Jester took Frumpkin from his hands and carefully lifted the familiar back up to his shoulders. Frumpkin purred, curling his whiskers at Jester for a moment before sticking his nose in Caleb’s ear. The mage let out an almost laugh at the sensation, returning Jester’s smile with his own tight worried one.

It seemed to please her, however, and though it wasn't how Caleb had meant to improve her mood, he was just glad it had been a success in some fashion. Jester spun around as the rest of the group joined them. Beau paused for a moment, holding Jester’s gaze. The cleric gave her a nod and a thumbs up, so Beau shrugged and led the group out of the inner chamber toward the short tunnel that connected it to the main line.

Caduceus’ staff lit the way as they walked, soon illuminating the open doorway. Fjord was first to come into view, sprawled out on the floor and staring exhaustedly up at the ceiling.

His breathing was a quick rise and fall of exertion, a few new gashes and dents in his armor and clothing, the floor around him (upon closer inspection) now adorned with smatterings of blood and other signs of a fight. Yasha leaned casually against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed as she stared into the darkness down the tunnel towards the exit. She in a similar state to Fjord, sporting still bleeding injuries, though she was far less winded.


	95. Chapter 95

Waiting in the dark was more difficult than Fjord had thought it would be.

For a while, Jester and Nott had talked in quiet whispers, the sound loud enough to carry but quiet enough that, from where Fjord was situated, he couldn’t quite make out just what they were saying. Yasha and Caduceus were at home in the silence; Yasha standing silent vigil and Caduceus calmly meditating. The cleric had not kept up the light spell; that would have defeated the purpose if one of Trent’s people showed up and saw the glow. They’d probably go report to the old mage and this whole thing would be a waste of time.

So they sat in darkness.

Hours of waiting, of silence, of all-encompassing blackness so thick that he struggled to see his own hand in front of his face. Time crawled, Jester and Nott’s voices blurring into a nonsensical background, fuel to the frustration rising in his chest. Fjord had agreed with this plan; they needed proof, allies, anything to aid them in outing Trent as a traitor. Anything to be done with this city, to go _back_ … Yet here in the dark, in the silence, his patron’s voice was endless…impossible to ignore.

** Punish **

The three of them had been gone for so long. It had been well into the afternoon as they had left, dusk was probably already upon them now. What could be taking so long? Fjord stomach twisted with worry and suspicion. Unbidden, the image of Beau and Molly bloodied and broken, Caleb standing speaking with faceless others over their bodies, entered his mind. Of the circle lighting up and armies marching through, of the rest of his friends fighting and dying.

_**Deceiver** _

Caleb had lied to them before. This could have been another lie, a trap to separate them, weaken them. The wizard was a good actor, that had been proven. It had taken them nearly two weeks to discover he was afraid of them. But that was a lie too, wasn’t it? Luring them into a false sense of security, to pity him, to trust him. And he’d been gone for _hours_ that morning only to return having miraculously procured the sigils they needed to be able to activate the circle.

_Betrayer_

They had done all they could to help him, but his loyalty to them was a lie too. Caleb obeyed Ikithon instead, collaborated with enemies. He had lured them into walking into an arcane spell that he had caste, taken Fjord’s friends to gods knew where. The wizard had lied, but he could be taught better. Caleb owed _them_ his loyalty, he belonged to Fjo-

Fjord sucked in a shaky breath, dropping the falchion from his hand. The orb at the hilt was glowing in the darkness, burning a red orange broken by the pupil like slit at the center. It narrowed as Fjord slid back away from it a foot, heart pounding. No. No, that wasn’t true, he didn’t want that. Caleb didn’t belong to him, to any of them. And… and he wouldn’t betray them, of course not.

Fjord closed his eyes against the darkness, against the burning eye watching him. The nothingness soon transformed into an endless ocean in his mind’s eye, fathomless depths of cold and dark and pressing weight. Thin lines of orange surrounded him, faintly glowing in the pitch black of the ocean. Chains encircled and wrapped tightly around him; their size made to look small by the monstrosity they contained.

Five orbs connected the chains together, creating a five-pointed star as the chains crossed and looped, over and back, again and again. They burned like hot coals where they touched against black leathery skin, the mass undulating in wordless fury.

Two of the orbs burned bright orange along with the chains, casting an even brighter glow that travelled down the links closest to them. The other three were blacked and dark, cracks running through them. The chain links closest to them were dark and cold, though still firmly tethering the mass it bound.

Freedom as he had not felt in eons, the ability to stretch his senses and roam the world. He was so close to what he desired. But it was not enough, not yet. So close, but not enough.

A tendril of black curled and twisted around a part of the chain, the water bubbling and hissing when it touched the living glow of orange. With a wordless, soundless shriek, the tentacle retreated. The chains rattled as Uk’otoa writhed, the orange orbs flaring brightly as the water churned and bubbled, the metal links straining, but still holding.

_RETURN_

He wanted to be free. Fjord’s heart clenched as he opened his eyes, finding himself standing with his falchion once more in his hand. He needed to go back, to be free. Fjord needed to shed the chains that bound him, he had to be _free_.

“Hey you guys! Caleb said they’ll be back soon and they are bringing a couple of people with them!” Jester’s voice rang out.

It was loud, too loud in the darkness, and Fjord hissed in irritation at both her words and volume. _More_ people to have to talk to, discuss plans with. Would it never end? He needed to go back NOW.

“Do you think you could keep your voice **down**?” Fjord snapped at Jester, putting the falchion back on his belt as he strode toward the cleric.

Jester frowned at him, expression a shocked surprise as her tone took on a defensive note. “There’s just us here Fjord, I’m just letting ev-“

“Of _course_ it’s just us, because anyone else that might have been on their way here would have just heard you shouting halfway across the city.” Fjord interrupted sharply, a curl of equal parts pleasure and horror at the flash of hurt across Jester’s face, her mouth opening in silent surprise. He knew he should stop, he _wanted_ to stop, but… “Now would you do us all favor and for once in your life, _be quiet_.”

Silence followed, something deep and dark in Fjord near purring at the obedience to his demand. Not as all-encompassing as his mage would do, but obedience still. Nott and Jester were staring at him, the cleric’s eyes starting to water. Nott drew in a breath and Fjord could see her nearly puffing up with self-righteous anger, but Yasha strode forward to grab his arm before anyone could say anything.

“I think we should guard the doorway.” She stated evenly, tone almost cold. Yasha didn’t wait for agreement, ignored Nott’s sputtered angry words, and instead just pulled Fjord away from the others.

Yasha tugged Fjord along the short tunnel, dragging him through the doorway into the slightly more open space beyond. This was outside of her wheelhouse, Molly was much better at confrontation than she, but something had to be said now. Jester was upset, Nott wasn’t intimidating enough to get through Fjord’s thick head right now, and Caduceus’ methods had obviously been ineffective so far.

Which left it up to Yasha. She looked down at Fjord as they stopped, brow furrowing unhappily. “Jester was only telling us what Caleb had told her. You should not have yelled at her.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Yasha.” Fjord snapped, jerking his arm out of Yasha’s grip with some effort. “I’m tired of talking, that’s all anyone _ever_ does, is talk. Enough!”

Yasha watched him in concern as he paced in a short circle, one clawed hand laying on the pommel of his blade.

“I have to get out of here, get rid of these chains… need to go back…” Fjord muttered, tone dropping to a low rumbled as his shoulders tensed. He came to an abrupt stop, fingers curling around the hilt of his blade.

“Fjord-?” Yasha began, wary.

Fjord spun around and lunged forward without warning, eyes a pitch black as he growled a toneless fury. Yasha reacted quickly, drawing the Skingorger and blocking Fjord’s blade. She frowned as their blades clashed, sparks lighting the darkness for a moment with the strength of Fjord’s attack. He didn’t hesitate to push forward, falchion sliding down the Skingorger as he shifted around Yasha. The blade dug a thin line down her side as he moved past, the two of them turning to face each other again.

Yasha let out her own growl, blood pulsing with rage at the twisted expression on Fjord’s face, the black empties of his eyes, the hilt of the falchion glowing a steadily brightening orange. This was not the Fjord she had come to know; this was something other.

She let out a short cry of fury as she retaliated, sweeping her blade overhead and down across the front of Fjord’s armor. Fjord stumbled sideways, blood splattering across the ground, though he quickly straightened once more. The Skingorger met him as he shifted to attack, cutting across one shoulder as Yasha bore down upon him.

Fjord used his falchion to knock her blade away, stepping back a foot and speaking in a low guttural tone. He lifted one hand, palm facing down as shadow gathered around it like twisting living vines. The darkness of the tunnel around them seemed to deepen, the air turning a frigid biting cold. Whispers filled the blank void, soft slurping sounds intermingled with the cacophony of senseless words.

Yasha could see nothing, even the orange glow of Fjord’s falchion having vanished. She snarled with fury and surprise as Fjord’s blade slashed across her torso. On instinct, she swung her own blade at the source, though cut nothing but air. She stepped forward, knowing there was little room for Fjord to maneuver in this space and that he couldn’t have gotten far or past her. Again, her blade met nothing but air, a soft dark chuckle joining the whispers around her.

There was a slither of movement by Yasha’s feet, the sound of something whipping through the air and she ducked away. A heavier sound followed, a clink of a blade hitting the ground as Fjord’s falchion missed its intended target. Yasha knew where he was again, in her fury uncaring of the pain of his blade slashing across her thigh as he struck again.

Yasha cut downward, her blade skittering off his armor. Without pause, she sidestepped, swinging her blade upward and was rewarded with a snarl of pain and the faint warmth of blood spattering against her leg. She moved forward to press her advantage, shoulder slamming into a slimy object that caused her skin to hiss and burn. She lifted her blade as she stepped back, hearing through the whispers the slight sound of steel through air.

Fjord’s falchion slammed against the Skingorger, though Yasha did not give him an inch. She dodged his second attempted, sweeping around him to carve her blade along the back of his shoulder blade. Yasha heard him fall forward, tried to adjust for the change, though her blade met nothing as she attacked again. She stayed where she stood, wary of the increasing whispers, the motions in the blackness around her.

Yasha didn’t budge as Fjord’s sword swung down across her arm, barely feeling it through the cold that was quickly seeping into her flesh. If she could see, it wouldn’t be surprising if her breath caused a frost in the air. Shouting in fury, she charged forward, using her sword to catch and shove Fjord backward. The void of darkness around them dropped as she slammed the warlock against the opposite wall, the blazing orb from the hilt of his falchion lighting the area.

Fjord’s eyes were still coal black, though there was blood at the corner of his mouth, his breath coming hard and ragged. Still he snarled at her, tone deep and guttural as he spat words in language she did not know. The falchion skimmed across her stomach, but she did not budge, did not let him free. Dark green energy formed in his free hand as he extended it toward her, the intensity of it striking her chest forced her backward. Fjord slid down along the wall, nearly falling to his knees before straightening and lunging forward with his blade.

Yasha knew she would need to be more careful now, temper the fiery rage in her blood. Uk’otoa may be pulling his strings right now, but this was still Fjord; her friend. She did not want to kill him. Fjord ducked under her blade as she swung, and she quickly corrected and caught him as he turned to try and take advantage of the slight opening.

Fjord fell to his knees, wavering for a moment and using one hand to brace himself to keep from collapsing on the ground. The orb at the hilt of his blade flared, and Fjord tensed before spinning around and lunging toward her once more. His attempts to attack were weak, the toll of the fight draining his strength. Yasha shifted her blade to her off hand, stepping back as Fjord leapt toward her. She swung a fist, his own momentum helping her as the blow caught him under the jaw.

Fjord fell back, falchion clattering noisily against the stone floor as it slide a foot away from his hand before scattering into nothing more than water quickly absorbed in the earth beneath. Yasha paused for a moment, putting her own blade away as Fjord remained still, eyes closed. He was still breathing, blood steadily staining the ground beneath him as he lay unmoving.

Yasha approached, kneeling down to place a hand on his shoulder, an electric crackle of divine energy leaving her hand. Fjord drew in a sharp breath as the energy healed him, panting and half sitting up before collapsing back on the floor. His eyes were clear again, their normal golden hue without a trace of the shadowed darkness of before.

Wordlessly, Yasha stood up, letting Fjord lay there and recover. She moved down the tunnel a few steps, keeping watch and listening to Fjord’s heavy breathing.

“Yasha.” Fjord said hoarsely after a long stretch of silence, having caught his breath. Yasha turned her head to look at him, eyes unreadable in the darkness. Fjord met her gaze, giving a short nod before collapsing back once more. “Thank you.”

Fjord didn’t know how long he lay there, only relished in the blessed silence. There was no Uk’otoa, no anger, no frustration. Just exhaustion. A little bit of pain, or maybe a lot of it, but he was okay with that. He really deserved it.

“What happened!?” Jester’s half shrieked questioned interrupted the peace sometime later as the other’s found them, the cleric only just managing to keep her voice somewhat lowered.

Fjord looked over at them, lifting an arm and waving it half-heartedly. “No no, it’s fine. Believe it or not, this actually helped.” He shifted his gaze to meet Caduceus, gesturing around himself. “See? No falchion.”

“It was still very dangerous.” Nott huffed, the only one unsurprised by the state of them.

Fjord was not at all shocked that Nott knew what had happened, only surprised that she disapproved considering what he'd said to Jester. Nott had probably followed them when they’d left, might even have stayed to watch the fight. Good. It was good to know she had been around in case… Well, he’d say in case he lost control, but that was exactly what had happened. Yasha had proved more than capable of dealing with it though.

He sighed, relishing in the feeling of being just himself for once. It was temporary, he could feel that, knew Uk’otoa was still there. His patron had just… overreached himself. Still, he’d take the peace and quiet for as long as it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, they are making a REAL good impression on their new friends, aren't they?


	96. Chapter 96

“Have you finally decided to stop being a complete ass?” Molly quipped, striding over to help Fjord to his feet. He stayed by the warlock’s side, lending him a shoulder of support to remain standing.

Fjord let out a pained laugh, though his smile was genuine. “Yasha managed to knock some sense into me. I can explain later, I think… I promise.” He stated, looking over with an apologetic smile towards Jester. It wasn’t enough, he’d apologize properly later, but for now…

“I suppose these are our new allies?” Fjord asked, eyes landing on Vex and Percy. Allies might be a bit of a stretch though, given the near inaudible growl from Molly at the term.

“Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III.” Percy introduced himself, lips almost twitching into a smile as Vex rolled her eyes at him. “You can call me Percy.”

“I’m Vex’ahlia, or Vex. I take it this, and back there, are the caverns under the castle we were told about?” Vex asked.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Beau answered, peering down the darkness that was the tunnel towards the Shimmer Ward. “And we should probably get out of here. Caleb’s got a magical hideaway, house, thing…whatever. Just outside the tunnel.”

“It is a bit of a walk.” Caduceus began, tone slightly apologetic.

“And it’ll be in the dark.” Beau continued, her expression and body language a tight impatient tension. “Sun’s probably down by now and they’ve been here waiting on us for hours now. I don’t think we should push our luck.”

Vex inclined her head, unbothered by the decision as she extended an arm to Percy. “Darling?”

Percy sighed, but was apparently resigned to being led blindly through the tunnel.

Still beside Claeb, Jester offered her hand to help him navigate the darkness. He accepted, taking her hand with only a bit of nervousness. Yasha shifted over to Caduceus as Beau fished out some goggles from her pack. With Nott and Beau taking the lead, Caduceus let the light from his staff go out.

It was an awkward and quiet journey. Besides the whispered warnings and instructions from Nott when they passed a trap, no one spoke at all. Caleb could see nothing at all, was very grateful for Jester’s hand in his own. It was comforting in the silence, reassurance that he wasn’t alone in a dark abyss. The vague sound of footfalls was no comfort; not when one pair of those was Percival’s and Caleb was uncertain exactly where the man was in the void around him.

Fjord and Yasha were equally intimidating to think about right now because, whatever Fjord’s reassurances, _something_ had happened between them. Caleb wasn’t entirely sure how to process the obvious signs of a fight between them.

Infighting and assassination attempts were always a vague reality with the Assembly, but in Caleb’s experience and training it did not fit in. If there was a mistake, it was disciplined; if there was a challenge, it was dealt with. Harshly. Yet Yasha had not appeared upset and Fjord had seemed… at ease. It was strange.

As they drew closer to the opening of the tunnel, Beau and Nott slowed to a stop some ten or so feet from the illusionary wall. Beside him, Jester muttered a short incantation and Caleb though he might have seen a flicker of green for a moment in the darkness. When the group began walking again, slipping out of the tunnel onto the dark streets, there was no sound of footsteps any longer.

Jester kept ahold of his hand even though he could see well enough out in the open air. The moonlight above was partially blocked by clouds, but he was at least no longer blind. He wasn’t about to complain, however, simply followed as they all made their way to the alley the mansion door was located.

Nott and Beau vanished within first, followed shortly by Caduceus and Yasha. Caleb paused at the doorway and let go of Jester’s hand with a quiet ‘just a moment’. He placed a hand on the doorframe, letting out a slow breath as he manipulated the arcane working to accept Percy and Vex within. It wasn’t quite as taxing as recasting the spell, but it strained the limited arcane energy he had left.

Inside the mansion, everyone was loitering in the main foyer waiting for the two guests to enter. Percy and Vex looked around at the space as they entered, though did not appear too impressed or shocked at the sight. Feeling slightly numb and unsteady on his feet, Caleb turned to address mainly the De Rolo’s.

“You will find a number of rooms to choose from for the evening. If you have need of anything, please ask the servants they will bring you anything you require. They can show you to the dining hall if you require.” Caleb explained, the same formality to his tone as had been present the first time he’d explained the mansion to the Nine.

Caleb glanced at the rest of the group as he continued, unsure if it was needed but reminding them anyway. “The spell lasts for twenty four hours and, ah, will fade tomorrow afternoon.”

“Will you be able to recast the spell tomorrow?” Fjord asked, peering around Caduceus as the Firbolg tended to his injuries.

Caleb inclined his head. “Yes, Fjord. I will be sure to have the spell prepared for tomorrow.”

“We should pick somewhere less conspicuous.” Beau advised, getting a nod of agreement from Fjord. “Unless we should move it now? Can you move it now?”

“Ah, no, I- I cannot.” Caleb replied when Beau’s gaze fell on him. “I could dispell the mansion, but I would- would not be able to caste the spell again tonight.”

“Alright, stays where it is then.” Beau stated easily.

“Why don’t we go get some dinner, we can all be properly introduced to our guests?” Caduceus suggested, stepping away from a freshly healed Fjord. There were still some cuts and bruises, but Fjord was at least standing and moving under his own power now.

Jester, Beau, and Yasha broke away with Percy and Vex to head to the dining area, Fjord right behind them, and Caleb politely declined the invitation to the remaining three. “Please, ah, unless- unless I am needed, I would ah, would p-prefer to- to go to my room, rest?”

“Yeah, of course that’s fine.” Molly assured, brow furrowed in worry.

Caduceus looked Caleb over for a moment, then nodded with a gentle smile. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me. Or any of us.” Caduceus drew in a slow breath, looking around and nodding to himself for a moment, then turned to gently guide Molly toward the dining area.

Nott hung back, shifting her weight as Caleb began walking toward one of the doors to the various hallways. Glancing back, she saw Molly’s pause, his gaze flickering worriedly toward Caleb before landing on her. Nott shooed the blood hunter toward the dining area, then turned to call out to Caleb.

“Caleb. Caleb, wait.” Nott called, the wizard stopping and turning back to face her and waiting patiently as she approached. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? Have some food?”

“Ah, thank you Nott, but I- ah, I am…tired. If- if it is alright, I would ah, prefer to rest?” Caleb replied, worry crossing his face.

“Of course, that’s fine, I’m just worried about you. You need to eat something, you’re so skinny…” Nott tutted, shaking her head. She wasn’t trying to scold him, but really… he didn’t eat enough. “But you do deserve some rest, I mean, you teleported Beau and Molly and you _twice_ today. That’s very impressive Caleb.”

Caleb blinked at her in surprise, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “O-oh, ah, thank you, it- it was, ah, not- nothing too extraordinary.”

“It really really was.” Nott insisted. Caleb didn’t get enough compliments, she was sure. And she really was impressed with him. He tried so hard… She shook her head, keeping herself on track. “If you want to go rest, I won’t bother you, but please promise me you’ll eat something?”

Again, Caleb looked surprised, but he nodded in agreement. “ _Verspreche_. Ah… I promise.”

Nott nodded happily, content with the promise and that Caleb wasn’t feeling scared or left out. It made sense he was tired, it really did. And she didn’t blame him for wanted to go get some rest early. She’d had the easy job, if boring, just sitting and waiting. Nott hurried after the others, not wanting to miss out in case Molly or Beau were filling everyone in on what happened.

~~

“If you don’t mind our asking, we know how Caleb met all of you, but how did the rest of you meet?” Percy asked, eyes drifting over all of them slowly.

Introductions had gone about as smoothly as possible, after a couple inquiries about Caleb’s whereabouts which Nott promptly answered. After Beau and Molly had caught the others up on what had transpired in Whitestone, the conversation had lulled into an awkward silence.

Until now.

Molly narrowed his eyes at Percy, not particularly fond of his prying, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. Letting these two get to know them would probably only help in the long run (hopefully). Too bad Caleb had retired to his own room it might have done the wizard some good to hear the story told from the beginning. See that they really were just a bunch of idiots winging things and honestly just wanted to help a new friend.

So, instead of complaining, Molly looked over toward Jester and Fjord since they’d been the start of it all anyway. This should be interesting too, since it seemed they hadn’t made up over whatever spat had happened right before they’d come back from Whitestone. The tension between them was as uncomfortable for the rest of the Nine as it was for the two of them.

“Met Jester first, in Port Damali, bout… four years ago?” Fjord began, glancing over at the blue Tiefling in question.

“Yes, Fjord was very broke and needed money, and I so graciously decided to help.” Jester said primly, pausing before adding. “He’d lost _another_ ship.”

“Another?” Molly snorted, lip curling into a grin. He’d heard this all before, of course, but the details about losing ships was a new one. “How many did you lose?”

Fjord flushed, jaw tensing. “Three, if you must know. The sea isn’t exactly the safest during a war. If it wasn’t pirates it was the Empire, and back then some of them didn’t give a damn what papers you had. You weren’t human, you were on the wrong side.”

The grin slid from Molly’s face and even Jester looked a little closer to forgiving Fjord for whatever idiocy he’d displayed earlier. They’d both experienced their fare share of Empire bigotry.

“Anyway. Jester was hiring a bodyguard to travel cross the border, I figured why not. Ran into Molly and Yasha in Felderwind a few weeks later.” Fjord continued, nodding his head at the two of them.

“What made your… friend… let you head inland so easy?” Caduceus asked, giving Percy and Vex a glance as he made vague mention of Fjord’s patron.

Fjord paused, tensing slightly as he looked at his hands. “I’d just broken the third seal, so he was…pleased. Shortly after is when I lost the ship, made it to Port Demali… Haven’t really been back to the ocean since then. Not really.”

Caduceus nodded, falling silent, and Molly decided to pick up the explanation from there. Fjord was looking pensive, but still himself, and Percy was looking a little too interested. Mister Lord of Whitestone there already knew too much about their problems and Molly didn’t trust him with any more right now. “Yasha and I were in Felderwind with some mutual friends…”

He paused, glancing over at Yasha and catching her gaze for a moment. She nodded once, shrugging when he lifted an eyebrow at her, so he took that as permission and continued to explain. “We were with a traveling carnival. Not the best gig during a war, but it was enough to eat most days. The majority of us weren’t human though and, long story short, ringmaster got arrested and we all went our separate ways.”

“We never did get to see the show…” Jester sighed woefully.

“Hey, I read your fortune, didn’t I?” Molly teased, earning a chuckle from the cleric. She seemed to be in better spirits now, though Molly could see the spat between her and Fjord still bothered her. He turned his attention back to Percy and Vex again. “Didn’t have any direction after that, and Jester seemed like fun, so Yasha and I invited ourselves along.”

“Certainly sounds more lively than our first meeting, right dear?” Vex teased, smiling over at Percy. He snorted at her and she laughed, shaking her head as she looked back at the Nine. “Got himself arrested for being a cult leader, of all things.”

“You got to be _pre-tty_ carefully about that here.” Jester proclaimed, shaking her head. “I got arrested once because this guard caught me laying out Traveler pamphlets in Trostenwald, and oh man oh man… Fjord and Yasha were trying to break me out, and Molly got caught distracting the guard!”

“Honestly, not the worst thing she’s done to get arrested over.” Molly said blithely, though was soon grinning widely and holding back a laugh. He leaned forward, propping his chin on his palm as he tilted his head at Jester. “Remember the Platinum House in Zadash?”

Jester snickered, nodding. “The Traveler was _so_ pleased. That was the best. We should totally do that again.”

“You and Kiki would get along.” Percy snorted, even smiling in amusement.

“Nott helped me get away from the angry mob. In Trostenwald, not Zadash. They were… let’s say, not used to people who looked so different.” Molly explained, ignoring Percy completely. Things were less tense, more relaxed now (too bad Caleb hadn’t stayed to unwind with them all), but Molly still didn’t like Percy.

“It’s a good thing too, I heard them talking about ropes and trees. You should really have been more careful.” Nott chimed in.

“It wasn’t really that bad.” Molly lied, not particularly interested in detailing that experience. “But it is why we got the hell outta the empire soon after. It wasn’t- well…isn’t I guess, but feels like it sometimes. It isn’t illegal to be nonhuman in the Empire, but it wasn’t the easiest thing. Ran into Beau doing Cobalt Soul stuff over in the Dynasty-”

“I’m pretty sure that was a gang initiation.” Jester interrupted, leaning forward to look over at Beau.

The monk snorted, but didn’t deny it. “These two idiots fast talked their way into the middle of it, not that it was too hard. Those gnolls weren’t exactly the smartest.” Beau stated, jerking her thumb toward Molly and Fjord. “Decided to join them traveling to Rosohna, since I was headed that way anyway. Safety in numbers and all that. Good cover too. I was just gonna stick around with them for a few days…”

“Can’t get rid of her now.” Molly jumped in, smirking at her.

Beau returned the gesture, jerking her head in a sharp nod but didn’t trade insults like was their normal routine. Instead her expression turned more serious, tinged with curiosity, as she looked at Percival. “What about you guys? I get Vex said she met you in a prison, but you mentioned some… Vox Machina back at your place. Guessing they are some old buddies of yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #loredump?


	97. Chapter 97

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chill laid back chapter for you. Aren't I super nice?

Yasha and Beau were the first to wander off once the meal was finished and conversation had died down. Caduceus offered to show Vex and Percy around, help them find a room, but the two De Rolo’s politely declined insisting they were ‘familiar with this type of spell and could find their own way’.

Fjord had slipped off on his own in the meantime, and with little else to do or anything of interest to talk about, Molly got up and began heading to his own room. Jester skipped after Molly, catching up to him in the hallways and bumping her shoulder against his. “Hey Molly.”

Molly looked over at her, lips quirking in a half grin. “Hey Jester. You okay?”

Jester nodded emphatically, maybe a bit too determined to reassure him but certainly she was in better spirits than a couple hours ago. “Oh, yeah, totally fine. But I was wondering if you would maybe go see if Caleb wants to have another sleepover? The Traveler is _definitely_ right and it totally helps, you know? I’m going to go ask Yasha and Nott if they want to come. And you can stay too, of course!”

Molly huffed out a short laugh, nodding in agreement. “Sure, I’ll go find him, see if he’s up for company.”

“Ooooh, should we all meet at Caleb’s room, since he’s already there and probably all comfortable? That way he doesn’t have to go anywhere if he doesn’t want?” Jester mused.

“Maybe we shouldn’t all just surprise him like that.” Molly warned, shaking his head slightly. Caleb didn’t much like surprises and, much as it pained him, Molly knew the mage probably wasn’t comfortable enough around them for so many of them to just spring themselves on his personal space. “Why don’t I ask and if he is okay with sharing his room, maybe he can message you or send one of these mansion ghosts or whatever?”

“That’s perfect! And if he doesn't want to, we'll all be in my room, okay?” Jester agreed merrily, clapping her hands together. She then gave a little shooing motion to Molly, breaking off to head in the direction Nott and Yasha had gone. “Go on, go on, ask him before he falls asleep!”

~~

Caleb closed his door behind him, letting out a quiet sigh. He was exhausted. Casting the teleportation spell twice, the mansion spell, making himself, Jester, and Molly invisible earlier... that alone was tiring enough, but added the stress and tension of the De Rolo’s interrogation…

Caleb was eager almost to have a moment to himself, to just- just breath. He felt like he could sleep for a year, but at the same time wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep at all. He was so tired, but far too anxious about Percival and Vex being in the mansion for sleep.

The others had shown their two guests toward the dining area for some food, Nott going with them after procuring a promise from Caleb that he would eat something as well. It was an odd feeling, having someone worry over him. He had little appetite at the moment, though he did have the mansion servants bring him some food since he’d made a promise to the goblin. He picked at it as Frumpkin stared at him, meowing and putting a paw on his hand when he sat still without eating for too long.

Eventually Frumpkin was satisfied, padding his way closer to rub against Caleb’s side affectionately. Caleb picked the cat up after setting aside the plate, shifting over to lay on his back across the bed. Frumpkin made himself comfortable atop Caleb, curling up and blinking slowly at the wizard.

One more day.

One more day and then whatever plan Trent Ikithon had put into motion would come about, with the Mighty Nine doing their best to stop it.

Caleb had not yet gone so far in assisting the Nine that he could not turn back. Ikithon knew nothing of his disobedience so far, the full extent of how he had defied his orders. It would be simple to choose the path Ikithon had paved for him; speak ill of the group at the King’s banquet, fuel the fires of hatred against the Dynasty, Jester and Molly likely to bear the brunt of that as the court would view them as demons invading their city.

Ikithon would have his war, might even have the throne. He would decree whoever remained of the Mighty Nine traitors, would likely have Caleb deal with them as he’d been taught.

He’d been given little choice back then; during his training and killing his family as a…a sick sort of graduation. Proof of how well he would obey orders. Ikithon had called his family traitors but that had been a lie. How many others, how many innocents had Caleb tortured, killed, at Ikithon’s direction? They could not all have been plotting against the Empire, some perhaps, but not all.

Caleb had never had a taste for that work, for pain and killing, but he had obeyed. Had told himself it was for the Empire, to protect the people. He had been able to close himself off and obey Trent, had lied to himself so he could sleep at night.

Caleb let out a slow breath, anger simmering hot in his chest.

_They are traitors, deal with them._

His own actions were inexcusable, and one day he would have to find a way to atone for what he had done. But Trent had to be stopped. So many he had labeled as traitors, had ordered killed, yet it was Ikithon who stood as the greatest threat to Caleb’s home. The man would bring the Empire to ruin, the few people which Caleb cared about dashed to pieces against the rocks of the old man’s ambitions.

He let his thoughts turn away from his former teacher, from the anger and frustration that curled about inside him and threatened to turn against himself.

Instead he considered the Mighy Nine, his own position amid the group, Molly’s insistence he could go where he wanted/when he wanted, Beauregard’s definition of boundaries, and even Nott’s odd worry over his health that had nothing to do with his ability to be useful to them.

Jester was… yes, he considered her a friend. Yasha, Nott, and Caduceus as well; each in their own uniquely odd way. Molly as well, the Tiefling beginning to remind Caleb more of Eodwulf now with how adamantly he appeared to be watching over him. They were all trustworthy, he believed. Most of them.

Caleb was uncertain of Fjord still, though he somewhat understood it was less Fjord himself and more the warlock’s patron. That was alright, Caleb understood well Fjord’s position. And he would accept it, accept needing to please and obey Fjord to keep the peace. It still gave him so much more freedom, still gave him the painless contact with all the rest of the group, all of them so free with affection.

Whichever way the winds blew over the next two days, Caleb would choose the Nine. His first choice, what _he_ wanted.

There was a knock at his door and Caleb tilted his head back to look over as Molly’s voice called his name. He waited for the Tiefling to come in, but the door remained closed. Tired as he was, Caleb was still able to pull enough arcane energy from within himself to summon a spectral hand, opening the door for Mollymauk. It was odd needing to do so, Caleb was more used to Ikithon’s habit of simply storming straight in. He gave a half smile to Molly as the Tiefling entered.

Despite his thoughts and musings, his own resolve to change, Caleb was still uneasy at remaining laying down instead of standing respectfully as would normally be his habit. His heart sped, that voice as the back of his mind a low thrum of warning, but he was giving this a try; being different. And besides, Frumpkin lay a comfortable weight on his chest and Caleb could not get up without displacing the feline.

“Hallo, Molly. Did you need something?” Caleb asked, petting Frumpkin absently as he tried not to be so worried. It was fine, Molly would not care.

“Yeah, Ca-“ Molly stopped short, coming to a complete halt a two steps into Caleb’s room. His tail didn’t even so much as twitch as his gaze moved slowly around the relatively small space, expression going cold and stony.

In an instant, Caleb clicked Frumpkin away, nearly falling face first on the floor in the quick scramble to stand upright at attention. He wasn’t sure what had happened, what he had done wrong, but _something_ had upset Molly. He stopped as he began folding his arms behind him, remembering himself and that this was Molly, not Trent. Molly who wouldn’t hurt him just because he’d done something wrong.

Caleb rubbed one hand along his arm anxiously, picking at the linen bandages. It was okay, Molly wouldn’t get angry over him not standing as he entered, it was… it was fine… but… But Molly looked angry, he looked murderous almost. Caleb couldn’t even begin to imagine what he could have done to upset the Tiefling so.

Caleb drew in a breath, clicking his fingers to bring Frumpkin back and then bending to pick up the familiar. Frumpkin’s low purr was soothing, though was not enough to erase the anxiety as he watched Molly step further into the room. He waited, watching Molly warily and ready to send Frumpkin away if needed.

“Caleb, how attached are you to this room?” Molly asked finally, tone slow and carefully as he spoke.

Confusion filled Caleb as he looked around the bare walls, the small bed. The question made no sense. “It… it is a room, I do not… ah, is- is it u-unsatisfactory? Somehow?” Caleb replied, anxiety twisting his stomach. Perhaps not something Caleb had done then, but the room? It still made no sense.

“No…” Molly answered slowly, pacing the short space around the room before stopping and frowning at the floor. “Not if you like it this way, but… I mean…” He sighed, waving a hand at the room around them. “You said this was all set up how Trent wanted it, and I’d guess that includes this room, and with the whole hierarchy thing you mentioned, this…”

Molly shook his head, crossing his arms and giving Caleb strained smile. “You know you could make your own room just as grand as the ones you made for us.”

Caleb’s first thought was denial, that he knew his place and would not presume to be above his station. Trent had taught him well and, even with Molly’s gentle patience, the thought still sent a spike of fear through him. But Molly, and even Beauregard, insisted there was no hierarchy among them. Really, he should have adjusted the mansion after that night, but he had not bothered to do so. They had not been displeased with their rooms here, had no way of determining if he’d adjusted the base to their requirements without measuring the rooms to compare.

Adjusting the base layout of the mansion was not difficult, simply required time. The group had been so busy, Caleb had simply not taken the time to adjust the spell. It had not seemed terribly important. He’d not thought they would object to his own quarters. Given Molly’s deeply unhappy expression, that last assumption had been wrong.

Caleb didn’t even know what he would do with a ‘grand room’ as had been the base for all of their quarters. He’d known little else than this type of living space. His parents had not been wealthy, his room there modest before he’d been sent to Zadash. His quarters at the Academy there, and then later with Ikithon, were all of similar shape. He was not entirely sure how to design a room for himself. He could list many of the Nine’s preferences and habits, things that would please them to be included in the mansion, but for himself…

“Ah, I… I will try?” He offered, the statement coming out as a question despite his best efforts.

Molly nodded, apparently appeased by the assurance. “You don’t have to, but you can. And I’d be glad to help, or even Jester, if you need ideas. Which brings me to why I’m here in the first place. Jester’s having another sleepover pillow fort. She’s had a rough day, figured you might like to join.”

“Oh, ah, yes, I would- ah, would like that. Thank you.” Caleb replied, a little taken aback at the unexpected offer. That… might help with his ability to sleep, oddly enough. He wondered if they would mind if he set up his alarm spell as he’d planned to do his own room. He’d had little choice but to allow Percival and Vex access to the mansion, though he was far from comfortable with either of them. An extra layer of protection staying in a room with a door that locked, along with Molly and Jester and likely one or more of the others around him, would be a welcome piece of mind.


	98. Chapter 98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sneaks in*
> 
> *leaves note reassuring people this story is not abandoned*
> 
> *sneaks out*

Caleb was once again startled awake by his alarm spell, though in less of a panic this morning. He opened his eyes to be met with the somewhat comforting sight of Yasha’s broad shoulders; the Aasimar having not moved from her offer to keep watch the night before. Despite the nervousness of their Tal’Dorei guests; a combination of exhaustion, a locked door, his own magic, and a fierce promise from Yasha had eased his worry enough he’d quickly fallen asleep.

Peering around Yasha he caught sight of a flash of blue before the door to the room shut, presumably Jester leaving. Nott as well, as the goblin was also missing upon a quick glance around the room. Molly was half sitting up with a bleary petulant expression as he gave the door a narrow look of annoyance. Frumpkin let out a short meow, crawling his way up Caleb’s chest in a demand for attention as the mage sat up. Frumpkin’s easy purr, the calm sluggishness of Molly and a now waking Yasha, were quickly calming the slight anxiety of his sudden awakening.

“Where did Jester and Nott go?” Yasha asked after a moment.

Molly grunted, muttering something unintelligible before curling back up and, to all appearances, going back to sleep. Yasha glanced over at Caleb curiously, though he could only shrug in equal confusion.

Frumpkin draped himself half across Caleb’s shoulder, purring while the wizard pet him as the cat watched Yasha and Molly. After several long minutes of silence, Frumpkin butted his head against Caleb’s before hopping down and padding over to Yasha in a demand for attention.

Caleb watched the interaction without too much anxiety, grateful for the careful gentleness Yasha took in petting his friend.

Having greeted Yasha, Frumpkin made his way over to Molly. The feline clambered atop the Tiefling, sitting primly with tail curled over his paws on Molly’s shoulder. Much to Yasha’s amusement, and Caleb’s nervousness, Frumpkin extended a paw to bat gently at Molly’s hair and face.

Molly grumbled, cracking an eye open to look up at the cat. He was careful not to dislodge the fey animal as he reached up to scrooch Frumpkin’s head as the cat let out an inquiring mrrt sound. “Yeah, yeah, I’m awake.”

Caleb kept an eye on the two of them for a moment, then turned his attention to gathering up the silver wire in front of the doorway. Once the wire was safely tucked away in his components pouch once more, Caleb turned to find Frumpkin already abandoning a much more awake Molly.

“I will.. ah, see you at breakfast?” Caleb commented, feeling a little awkward to just leave in the quiet laziness of this morning. Molly waved idly while Yasha gave a simple nod of acknowledgement.

Frumpkin felt nothing of the same awkwardness apparently, trotting out with tail held high once Caleb had opened the door. Amused, Caleb followed the feline for a while, picking him up so Frumpkin could curl over his shoulders when the cat slowed down.

Caleb found his way to a washroom near his own bedroom, taking the time to clean up beyond the normal quick wash or simple cantrip that he usually made do with. He knew he wasn’t required or expected to be anywhere and, for once, felt no need to rush to make himself available in the ‘need to be useful’ mentality he normally operated under.

He was less anxious than he had been the previous evening; a night’s sleep having erased the exhaustion and most of the nervousness over the De Rolo’s presence. He still worried about Percival particularly, but Yasha’s protectiveness and Nott’s assurances from the night before (despite him not actually speaking of what worried him) were enough to stave off any potential panic.

Without the fear and exhaustion, he considered what Molly had said the previous day. Caleb himself had turned the phrase into a half jest, but considering it now he was certain Molly had been in complete seriousness when suggesting Caleb ‘throw a fireball’ if Percy were to come too close without him wanting it. It was an odd thought, more plausible now that he wasn’t tapped out of most all his magic. Boundaries, as Beau would likely say. Though he did not wish to be in a situation that would test his ability to express such.

Despite taking his time to clean and dress, Caleb found the dining area empty when he went looking for the others. Unbothered, and mindful of Molly’s passing suggestion on his own rooms in the mansion, Caleb found himself a seat and retrieved one of his spellbooks from his coat.

Frumpkin kept watch for him as he took notes and considered adjustments, absently eating some food that the servants brought in the meantime. At Frumpkin’s warning meow, Caleb looked up from his book to see Jester skipping happily into the room, Fjord walking at a more sedate pace beside her. Caleb could only surmise the two of them had spoken, putting whatever argument had occurred behind them.

“Caleb! Good morning!” Jester chirped cheerily as she came over. She tilted her head, expression turning curious as she glanced at the book in front of the wizard. “What’s that? Are you drawing?”

Caleb blushed lightly, looking down at his spell book. It was mainly runes and spellwork, nothing Jester would likely be able to read and instantly understand, yet he had to resist the urge to shut the pages and hide what he had been working on. Trent would certainly not have approved…

“Ah, no, I am not, ah, drawing. I am afraid I do not have such artistic talents as you, Jester.” Caleb replied lightly, gaze flickering over towards Fjord as the warlock moved past. “It is…ah, the- the base of this spell. The mansion, I mean.”

Jester slid into the seat nearest Caleb, scooting it a little closer. “Oh, are you changing things?”

“J-ja, but…only small things.” Caleb replied softly, flush deepening somewhat.

Fjord kept his distance as Jester began gently pestering Caleb with questions, though the mage didn’t seem to mind too much once the initial nervousness faded. He hadn’t missed the nervous glance Caleb had cast his way when he’d entered the room. Honestly, Fjord had no idea how to talk to Caleb; whether to apologize, explain himself, promise it wouldn’t happen again… he wasn’t even sure it would mean anything even if he did.

Not until he’d gotten out from under his patron.

He might not be able to hear Uk’atoa right now, but he wasn’t free. He didn’t know if it would be better or worse to just avoid Caleb for the time being or try and explain. Fjord wasn’t even sure he’d trust himself too close to the mage to even do that much if he were honest. So he took a seat well away from the two chatting over spells and rooms, waiting for the rest of the group to show up.

They filtered into the dining area one by one. Nott slipped in unnoticed until Fjord turned to find her swiping bacon from his plate, with Yasha arriving soon after and taking a seat on the other side of Caleb oddly enough. Molly headed over to drop himself into a seat next to Fjord when he showed up. The blood hunter somehow found a way to lounge across the simple dining chair as he gazed lazily at Fjord.

“You back to normal then?”

Fjord snorted, shaking his head with a half-smile. “More or less, but give it time and I’m sure I’ll be back to being an asshole again.”

“That goes without saying.” Molly snarked with a chuckle. “Good to see you and Jester made up.”

“You know I was up half the night trying to figure out how to apologize, but she shows up this morning with a ‘I know it wasn’t you, it’s okay’ and basically just being Jester.” Fjord sighed, throwing an affectionate look toward the blue Tiefling. “If I didn’t think it’d get us all killed, I’d be all for doing more than just fixing the broken seals holding my patron…”

“If you’re looking for someone to be the voice of reason against that idea, I am _not_ the right person.” Molly laughed, lips curling into a fanged grin.

Fjord snorted, letting the topic drop as he noticed Percy, Vex, and Beauregard being the last to arrive and find a seat to have some breakfast. Caleb had put away his spell book some time ago, the conversation between him and Jester having shifted and now included Yasha.

It was Beau who eventually pulled the conversation to the issue at hand, loudly asking in her particular brash manner what the plan for the day was.

“I know we need to move the mansion.” Beau continued, looking around at the group. “But the banquet isn’t until tomorrow, obviously, and we’ve prepared about as much as we can right now, haven’t we?”

“Not to be rude, but I don’t think we ever got around to why exactly you two came along?” Fjord questioned, making an effort to be at least somewhat polite about questioning why the two from Whitestone had tagged along back to Rexxentrum. “I get you want the residuum, but…”

“Now that we know where the residuum is now, that is part of our problem solved.” Percy began, speaking once it became clear Fjord had nothing else to add to the inquiry.

Molly snorted, tone derisive and almost insulting as he interrupted. “We want to stop a war, you want to stop a thief. Are we working together or shipping you back home with your residuum?”

Percy lifted an eyebrow, but otherwise appeared unphased by the Tiefling’s barely contained hostility. “I would be glad to send those crates back to Whitestone now. The amount used or lost I’m willing to let go, so long as the true thief is dealt with. As for working with you…”

“I wouldn’t mind adding ‘prevent potential regicide’ to our list of adventures, what do you say?” Vex smirked when Percy looked to her for her opinion.

Percy huffed a short laugh, shaking his head in amusement. How very like her. He felt much the same, missed the action and adventure of his youth. Though his old bones and (at times) aching joints were not quite so accommodating any longer. He looked around at the Nine, getting himself back to the point. “Trent Ikithon. Beauregard said you had to deal with him, I’m hoping you have some plan at least?”

Molly and Beau shared a look, the group all hesitating for a long moment. The monk was the first to break the silence, giving slight shrug. “Yeah, we have a plan. Of course we have a plan.”

“Most of a plan.” Fjord admitted with a slightly embarrassed grimace.

“Sounds like the good old days, right Percy?” Vex chuckled, smiling over at her husband.

“Yes, and I remember how well those always went.” Percy remarked dryly.

“Caleb, I definitely remember but could you remind me, what is it that Trent wanted you to do at this party?” Fjord asked.

“And what exactly is he planning to do with all of my residuum?” Percy inserted.

“The residuum is yours, all of Ikithon’s notes and research is- is yours. Ah, n-none of that is- is part of his plan. Ah, I… it does not, I believe, factor into Trent’s more…ah, immediate goal.” Caleb began to explain, addressing the De Rolo’s main concern first. He was nervous being the center of attention, especially as the questions had come from the two he had the most reservations about. “His instructions for me were to speak with the nobility at the banquet, sow dissent towards you among the nobility and those of power.”

“Setting us up to take the fall for assassinating the king, basically.” Fjord guessed.

“That is…the most likely objective.” Caleb agreed, inclining his head slightly.

“So far as Yudala and the Cobalt Soul know, he’s gathering support, spreading rumors. I spoke with my share of the court while I was at the Soul, tried to reassure them.” Beau told them, leaning her elbows on the table as she looked over at Caleb. “If you do the same at this party, it would probably go a long way to undo whatever damage Trent has managed. Not often an Archmage agrees with an Expositor after all.”

“That, ah…that is how they will view it. At least.” Caleb agreed lightly, anxiety twisting in his stomach for a moment before settling. Beauregard did not speak it as if she were upset or annoyed, simply stating a fact.

“Is that all he wanted you to do?” Percy asked, receiving an irate glare from Molly.

Caleb focused on the elaborate designs carved into the table as he replied, still very wary of the man.

“No, but it is the most detailed order. My only other task was to insure they-“ Caleb paused, glancing up and around at the rest of the group. “That they remained until after dusk. I presume that in the interim, Trent will be laying groundwork, preparing. Were I to treat this any other mission, as in the past, I would expect to receive further instructions once we have arrived. Trent often employed strategic division of information. Even Astrid likely does not know the complete scope of his plan. Nor any contingencies should his original goal become unavailable.”

“You mentioned having proof; why haven’t you taken this to the king, or even one of his advisors?” Vex asked.

“Trent is one of those advisors.” Caduceus answered.

“A-and well connected.” Caleb added, clarifying for the two. “The Assembly is ruled by three, each with their own area of expertise. Martinet Ludinus Da’leth is the most senior member, widely viewed and accepted as the leader. Master Trent Ikithon and Master Athesius Uludan run the Assembly along with the Martinet.”

“Yudala mentioned Ikithon’s influence was affecting the balance of power or some shit. What’s that look like on the Assembly side of things?” Beau inquired.

Caleb’s brow furrowed as he considered, collecting his thoughts for a moment before he began to try and piece together an answer that would also give clarification to the confusion on Percy and Vex’s faces.

“In the Empire, the King rules, much as once your own nation’s king.” Caleb began, addressing Percy and Vex's confusion first. “The Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul have acted as… as advisors to the crown.”

“The Cobalt Soul doesn’t strike me as a political organization. At least they aren’t back in Vasselheim. Not really anyway. I always viewed that as a rather restrictive library.” Percy said doubtfully.

“They’re not _political_ exactly.” Beau replied with a shrug. “I mean, yeah, we support the empire and fought during the war or gathered intel. But mostly they’re just a bunch of librarians; research and books and shit like that. Comparatively, there’s not that may of us that… you know…”

Beau floundered a little, waving her hand in the air.

“Yes yes, not everyone is as punch happy as you. But I think we’re getting a little off track here.” Fjord reminded them, holding a hand out to keep Beau’s exaggerated flailed gesture from slapping him in the face.

“Yes, ah, I- I am sorry, Fjord.” Caleb apologized quickly before returning to the question Beauregard had asked in the first place. He stumbled over his words for a moment, though soon got back on track. “King Dwendal, ah, d-during the war… ah, the- Martinet Da’leth and High Curator Yudala were the two who represented each faction, the ones who most oft advised his majesty. I…do not know for certain when, but Trent became part of that advisement during the war.”

“So, there were two from the Assembly and just one representative of the Soul?” Vex summated.

“Yudala wouldn’t have an issue with Trent just joining the table.” Beau countered. “The way they talked bout it though, sounded like there was something more going on.”

“Trent advising during war time at all is… out of his realm. To a degree.” Caleb continued, holding his arms a little closer to himself as he traced a finger lightly along the linen wraps. “Martinet Da’leth’s expertise is warfare and battle. The only such interest and hand in such matter that Trent has are his Volstrucker. Myself, Eodwulf, Astrid, and one or two others. A very select few. He trained us, yes, but that would not of itself place him along side the Martinet in advising King Dwendal. Da’leth would have passed along our orders to Trent, who would give us our assignments. That is how it worked for the first year or so of the war.”

“Makes me wonder about this Ludinus Da’leth.” Caduceus mused.

“What do you mean? What about him.” Jester asked.

“Well, people in power usually want to keep that power. It’s a little odd that the leader of the Cerberus Assembly would just let one of the others usurp his place like that.” Caduceus explained in his careful way.

“Oh….” Jester paused, frowning with one finger tapping her chin. “That’s true, why would he do that? Caleb why would he do that?”

“I do not know. I do not know him; I have never spoken to him at length.” Caleb replied apologetically.

“He might be someone we should keep an eye on, after all this is done.” Caduceus advised.

“But basically, Trent’s trying to gather more power, booted Ludinus out in the process.” Molly guessed, picking up a cup and swirling the contents lazily. “We can’t really trust anyone to bring what proof we have, we’re pretty sure Trent has ways of shifting the blame on us even if we do. We don’t know his exact plan, but endgame is starting the war back up and with that hoard of magic crystals, finishing it.”

“These…’others’ you mentioned.” Fjord began, leaning forward with a concerned expression. “What was the word you used… Vols- volsomething?”

“Volstrucker…” Caleb provided warily.

“Yes, that. You said there were more than just you, Eodwulf and Astrid. How many others, and are they likely to be at this party, you know… helping Trent. Needing to be dealt with and all that?” Fjord questioned.

“It is possible, though I would not be able to point them out to you. Doubtless they will be disguised, or otherwise make themselves inconspicuous. Eodwulf and myself were not… not trained for stealth, infiltration, such as Astrid.” Caleb explained. “But Trent would have- … _did_ make sure that- that we would answer to him. Obey him. If they are there, they will assist Ikithon even against the King’s orders.”

“This is sounding more and more familiar every second.” Vex scoffed, though there was an excited smile on her face. “You don’t know what his plan is, not really, and you don’t have much of a plan of your own.”

“If I had to put a name to it, I’d say plan A is follow along with what Trent wants, try and get ahead of him and catch him in the act.” Beau sighed, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Which is the shittiest plan and will probably end up failing _abysmally_. But he can’t talk his way out of it if he’s caught red handed.”

“Assuming the King isn’t caught in the crossfire and everything goes completely according to the way Trent wants it to.” Nott snorted.

”Percy and I can help with that.” Vex offered, sharing a look with Percy.

“I don’t much like the idea of someone so war-hungry taking power. I’d rather his sights not turn toward Tal’Dorei.” Percival agreed, grimacing. From what Molly had told him of the man, it would be entirely likely that would happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it all the way through that....
> 
> Long chappy, yus. Lot's of talking, yus. BUT, it needed to be done.
> 
> At least that's what I tell myself. I wrote most of this chapter, disliked it but kept it. Rewrote the beginning, realized the discussion was okay and kinda needed, hated it some more, got over it and come to a realization it's _probably_ okay. So here it is.


	99. Chapter 99

_Morning light filtered into the tower window falling across a bare shoulder blade and brown hair spread across the bed. Astrid rolled over, opening her eyes to look at Eodwulf beside her. His breath was an easy rise and fall, relaxed in sleep. Propping herself on one elbow, she let the blanket slide, lifting a hand to trail a finger down the side of Eodwulf’s face. She spoke softly, though her tone made the words an order._

_“Wake up, Wulf.”_

_Eodwulf obeyed instantly, opening his eyes with a hazy expression, muttering an intelligible question._

_“We have a big day ahead of us.” Astrid continued, finger still tracing lazy designs on Eodwulf’s cheek. “You will be on your best behavior, obey Ikithon. Do you understand.”_

_Eodwulf’s gaze darkened, brow furrowing at the mention of Trent. His gaze began to clarify, muscles tensing as he began to sit up._

_Astrid smoothed the agitation away by leaning close, pressing her lips to his and near rolling atop him. The kiss was deep and possessive, lasting for a few seconds before she broke away._

_Eodwulf’s expression was passive and glazed again as Astrid stood from the bed and moved to the dresser across the room. Her voice rang out authoritatively, Eodwulf sitting up with his blank gaze following her form._

_“Get up, we have much to do. You will attend as a servant, speak to no one. There is another who wears the drow face, we don’t need two of you.” Astrid instructed, glancing over at Eodwulf as he began to mechanically dress himself. She took a flat metal disk from her desk, messing with it for a moment. “Go. You know your orders.”_

_Once dressed, Eodwulf left without a word, walking silently down the stairs of the tower…_

The vision faded into white mist as Jester was pulled up and across the broad expanse of the city, opening her eyes in her own body once more. That was definitely not what she'd expected to see when casting the spell. Quickly, leaving out the more intimate actions because she didn’t want to hurt Caleb’s feelings (she didn’t know if he **like** liked Eodwulf in that way or not still), Jester related what Astrid had said.

She stood from the circle of symbols to the Traveler she had set up in her room in preparation for the spell, gathering them and putting them back in her bag as she finished explaining.

“Thank you, Jester.” Caleb repeated for the fifth time since asking her to cast the spell in the first place. It made Jester want to sigh, but she had other things on her mind.

“Of course, but Caleb!!” Jester squeaked, wringing her hands. “She is _not_ very nice to him, you know, that’s not cool at all, and apparently she knows someone else that is going to be there…”

“Yes, that- I had thought there would be more than Astrid and Eodwulf to contend with.” Caleb agreed, gaze skirting to the side. “I just… I… I cannot thank you enough, Jester. I will- will repay you, somehow, I will-”

“No!” Jester interrupted, a little too sharply going by the flinched reaction and Caleb taking a small step backward. She felt a little guilty, but Frumpkin still sat calmly beside the wizard’s feet, so she guessed he wasn’t too scared at the outburst. If he was really worried she would hurt him, he’d probably send Frumpkin away. Keeping that in mind, telling herself that she hadn’t scared him too bad probably, Jester pushed on. “Caleb, you don’t owe me anything okay? We’re friends, we help each other out!”

That little guilty feeling grew a slightly as Caleb just nodded silently, expression going wary as he held carefully still. That didn’t seem like a great sign, but maybe he was just taking it in?

Jester took in a long deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Now.” The cleric’s expression bloomed into a wide smile, voice lilting with cheer. “Caleb, you look _very_ dashing in your new suit! It looks wonderful on you! You did an a-mazing job picking it!”

Caleb flushed at the compliment, wary nervousness giving way to tentative caution. It wasn’t so much a shift in mood, because she’d not been angry with him at all, but it _was_ an abrupt change of subject. It took him a moment of stammering to get his thoughts in order well enough to respond. “Ah… uh, I, ah… M-Mollymauk and Caduceus did, ah, most of the choosing.”

“Maybe, but **you** are the one who makes it look good.” Jester countered cheerfully, shifting forward carefully to tug his coat a little straighter. She beamed up at him gleefully when he didn’t flinch or move away.

“Molly said…. Much the same…” Caleb murmured, cheeks turning a darker red at the admittance as he glanced down at his apparel. It was much finer in make and design than he’d ever worn. He could (and had) cast illusions to disguise himself with regal dress if needed, though always to the specification of Trent. Those times had been for a shorter duration than required today, and he’d never expected to be granted fine clothing in the first place. Even his presentation to the Nine had been with secondhand garments. These though… these were well made and were _his_.

The material might not be as luxurious as many of the nobility would wear at the banquet, though to him it was as fine silk, but none could not fault the craftmanship of the tailor. Caleb’s boots were made of fine dark leather, tall and reaching above his calves with buckles decorating up the sides. His trousers and tunic were a dark navy color, elegant designs along the cuffs and up the front. The symbol of the Cerberus Assembly was embroidered in the same silvery blue as the designs. The emblem would be expected, and Caleb was not foolish enough to omit its inclusion. His outer cloak was a slightly deeper navy than his tunic, the interior folds an intricate floral design of red and white.

“Ah, you… you look very beautiful Jester.” Caleb complimented, hoping to detract some of the attention from himself. Unlike Molly’s blustering and quick exit when he’d seen him that morning, Jester was not shy about lavishing on the accolades to his outfit. He much preferred redirecting her thoughts.

Jester laughed, spinning around and letting the ruffled bottom of her dress flare out. It was reminiscent of the pink gown she had seen in Nicodranas. It was crafted of soft pink cloth, strapless with embroidered designs on the bust. A band wrapped around her waist with a tasteful pink bow tied in the front. It was a floor length dress, with plenty of fabric to cover her armor beneath. A coat made of the same pink fabric went over the whole ensemble, masking the rather bulky look of the outfit. Jester’s hair was curled atop her head, held in place by an elegant pink hairband.

“Thank you, Caleb, you are very sweet.” Jester laughed happily. “Come on, we should totally go find the others, they’re probably ready to go!”

“Jester.” Caleb spoke quickly before she could leave, reaching out to grab her hand thoughtlessly. He dropped it quickly, flinching back on instinct. He was certain enough she would not be angry, yet his heart still skipped, voice threadbare as he continued. “Please… please do not tell Fjord? A-about…about the scry?”

Jester smiled again, though this time the expression was sad. “He won’t get mad Caleb. I promise.”

“Y-yes, yes, sorry, I- … please, though? Just…just this once?” Caleb pressed, gut clenching at the presumption, fully expecting her to refuse.

“Aw…Caleb! I won’t tell him, of course I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to!” Jester lamented; tone heartbroken as she wrung her hands together. “But Eodwulf is your friend, we’d help him too, you know? I’ll try my best, but if we tell everyone else, they can help too.”

Caleb tilted his head at the proclamation, confusion mixed with relief at her agreement. He had thought about it once and hoped, but had not dared ask or believe…

“You would help him? Though he attacked you, obeys Ikithon. You would not…not harm him?” Caleb asked.

“Of course!” Jester assured, leading the way out of her room. “He’s helped you, and us, already. And you still like him, he’s still your friend which makes him our friend too!”

Caleb kept pace with her humming in thoughtful agreement. He still wasn’t entirely sure about telling Fjord. It was far too likely the warlock would be displeased with the practical waste of a spell. It was all but guaranteed they would be going into battle, yet he’d convinced Jester to waste her energy just to check in on his friend.

“And who knows, maybe he’ll see you looking all fancy and snap out of whatever Astrid is doing.” Jester teased, nudging Caleb carefully with her elbow.

Caleb let out a short breath that might have been a laugh, nervous as it was. “That was a very long time ago, and very one sided.” He reminded her softly, focusing on the present. “He only every had eyes for Astrid, which I would hazard makes it easier for her now.”

“Jester, Caleb.” Caduceus’ easy tone greeted them as they moved through the hall, the tall Firbolg falling into step with them as they walked toward the main foyer. “Good morning.”

Caduceus’ outfit was not too different than his usual attire, the grave cleric sporting the same color scheme of teal and pink, designed to match the crystal on his staff. His boots were missing the pink barnacle like growths, a deep rich brown with a singular buckle circling the top. His overcoat was crafted well enough to hide the armor underneath, soft teal with embroidered leaves along the lapels and cuffs. He had left off his shield for the party, as there was no way to conceal the item and it would seem odd if they came overtly prepared for battle. It had found a home along with Jester’s shield in Fjord’s bag of holding the prior evening in preparation.

“Good morning to you too.” Caduceus greeted Frumpkin when the fey cat let out a meow from where he padded along between Caleb and Jester.

Molly was right behind Caduceus in joining them. His outfit, much like Caduceus, was not so different than usual. He kept his favorite cloak, the design flamboyant and extravagant enough it wouldn’t look out of place. His tunic was a light blue color with a pattern that matched his cloak. Unlike his normal deep v-cut shirt, this one covered the majority of his chest and hid the scars on his skin. His trousers were a rich grey, his boots the same color in soft leather.

The bloodhunter glanced over at Caleb, face a darker violet hue as he nodded to him. “Good morning again, Caleb.”

Jester’s chatter with Caduceus filled the silence as they made their way to the main foyer. Vex and Percy had not returned the previous evening, stating they’d find their own way to the event and it would prompt less suspicious if they kept some distance from the group for the day. Caleb hadn’t cared their reasoning; only glad he need not worry about their presence in the mansion that night.

The rest of the Nine awaited them in the foyer, already dressed for the banquet.

Fjord cut the picture of the leader of the group as most of the nobility viewed him to be. He’d fallen back on his seafaring days when selecting his outfit. The overcoat a deep blue, the interior tinted with violet and pattered with serpentine designs that were reminiscent of the sea. The coat buttoned up the front with gold trim and buttons, the collar stiff and trimmed in gold, and the shoulders padded with gold tassels. The trousers were a crisp white, boots a jet black in contrast. He’d forgone the hat, despite Jester’s teasing and hints when they’d ordered the clothing.

Beauregard’s outfit reflected her position in the Cobalt Soul; a deep rich blue overcoat with no sleeves and a matching sash around her waist that faded into teal near the bottom. The rest of her attire was a reflection of simplicity; tunic and trousers made of dark grey material. Her expression was still annoyed, much as it had been the previous evening. Thanks to pressure from the High Curator, Beauregard had needed to pass on wearing most of the fancy clothing that Jester and Caduceus had found for her. Flaunting her position within the Cobalt Soul, however, was more important in the grand scheme of things this time.

Yasha wore all black, keeping her normal cloak with its furred mantle to mostly mask the broad blade strapped to her back. The dress was floor length with an elegant cut. It was loose enough not to be too form fitting, giving her enough freedom of movement she would not be incumbered.

As opposed to her usual cloak and tones of drab grey and black, Nott wore a vibrant yellow dress cut to knee length. Her dagger was displayed on her belt next to her pouch of components and concoctions, crossbow strapped to her back. Her leggings and jacket were plain, outfit designed to not attract attention. Invitation or not, she knew she wouldn’t be very welcome thanks to her goblin appearance. Casting a disguise spell wasn’t practical, so her general plan was to skirt around the party as unnoticed as possible.

Fjord pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against, drawing the rest of their attention to the last four as they arrived. “Looks like we’re all ready to go.”

Beau rolled her shoulders, picking up her bo staff and slinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s go then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I wouldn't do fancy clothes descriptions? Well.. uh, there ya go. Lol.
> 
> *moving right along*


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys there would be a party for chappy 100

The palace was a bustle of activity even before they entered the wide double doors to the foyer or even came close to the main building. From the portcullis walking through the courtyard, the group watched servants running to and fro, nobles stepping out of carriages, guards patrolling the area. King Dwendal had opened up the courtyard to the public; white ornately decorated tents set up around the edges, rough wooden tables and benches set up in the center. Decorative banners with the Dwendalian crest hung on strings crossing from tent to tent.

Despite the ‘open to the public’ announcement of the event, the guards were selective on who they allowed entry into the courtyard. Mostly it was just the residents of the Shimmer Ward, The Tangles, and mostly anyone that looked like they had some medium of wealth. Nott hid herself in the middle of the others as they passed the guard, the goblin glaring sharply at the two men who were sternly sending a smaller group of individuals away.

Despite the selectivity of those allowed in, the celebration in the courtyard was a jovial one. Most of the citizens seemed to currently be entertaining themselves watching and commenting on the arriving nobles and other guests. The Nine got their fair share of gawkers and pointers, Molly and Jester pointedly ignoring the not so subtle looks.

More guards were stationed on the marble landing of the inner courtyard. Tall columns framed the entryway and as each person entered, an announcement was made with their name and titles. The extra guards station on the interior armed with spears and ready to escort any not on the guest list away. It was the fanciest, most ornate party the Mighty Nine had ever been to, or ever dreamed of attending.

Despite having a longer list of names attached to their announced arrival, the herald moved through it quickly enough. Some the couple before them took more of the man’s time thanks to their list of titles and baronies. Most of those in attendance currently were the nobility of Rexxentrum, each dressed in regal splendor to show off their affluence and wealth. The Nine were not the first to arrive, there were quite a few guests there even this early in the afternoon, but the higher ranking of court were (apparently) intent on arriving fashionably late. There were few enough non humans at the moment, Caduceus counted a total of three besides themselves, though there were probably more mixed blood scattered throughout.

Two dwarves, stout and hardy with long full beards, stood watching each arrival as they were announced and joined the party. Both were deep tan, wear full plate armour oddly enough, though they bore no weapons. They seemed to have pulled themselves away from the slowly growing crowd on purpose, speaking in Dwarvish with no pretense at keeping their conversation hidden from anyone else.

A drow elf was skirting around the edges of the party, his features somewhat obscured with the hood of his cloak and facewrap of blue cloth. His dark skin and pale hair was still visible, however, his heritage obvious. The archway was well lit with the late morning sun, the celebration not yet having moved deep enough indoors to shield him from the light, and Caduceus felt a little sorry for the man. He must be sweltering under that long black cloak.

“You realize he’s probably not actually a Drow. Or from Xhorhas as all…” Beau muttered to Caduceus, slipping up beside him.

She kept her gaze on the growing crowd, keeping an eye on the rest of the nine as they slowly began to spread out in the crowd of gathered nobles.

Caduceaus paused, watching as the man in question quietly filed along unnoticed by the majority of the guests towards the inner hall of the palace. “Huh… I suppose you’re right. Think that’s Caleb’s friend?”

“Maybe.” Beau shrugged, brow furrowing as she lost track of the guy. Nott had vanished too, but that much she’d expected. “Should probably try and keep an eye on him at the very least.”

Caduceus grunted in agreement, though his attention was already slightly wandering as they moved further into the decorated main hall of the castle. Beau snorted, but left him to people watch. Instead, she turned her attention to Caleb, the mage looking stiff and formal, though she had come to know him well enough to see the anxiety underneath.

“Hey. You gonna be okay?” Beau asked him quietly.

Caleb glanced over at her, expression unchanging though Beau did notice a slight tightening in his jaw as he paused before answering in an equally quiet volume. Despite the stony expression, his tone was quiet and reserved; flat almost. “Yes, Beauregard. I will be fine. I will not embarrass you or the Mighty Nine.”

“…Okay…” Beau frowned, brow furrowing. That wasn’t what she’d meant _at all_. Though, thinking about it, his concern made sense. She didn’t even want to _know_ what Ikithon would have done, or fucking **had** done, to make Caleb so instantly disconnect himself going into a party.

He didn’t seem to react to her any further, gaze drifting away as he moved forward along with the others. Beau didn’t press, instead slipped over to where Jester and Molly were snickering quietly together.

“Hey, Jes.” Beau interrupted them, wedging herself between them. “You wanna go keep Caleb some company for a while, maybe try and get him to relax a little?”

“Oh, sure, of course.” Jester agreed quickly. “Is he okay, though?”

“Yeah, yeah, just looks nervous, I guess. I mean, not really. You know how he is, but just… I dunno.” Beau shrugged. She smirked a little, elbowing Molly in the ribs. “I’d send you, but I don’t think you gawking at him and getting all flustered is gonna do any good.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not- I didn’t gawk-“

“Oooooh, Molly, are you blushing?” Jester teased, giggling when it only made the blood hunter turn a darker violet.

“Go on, go talk to Caleb, shoo.” Molly grumbled good naturedly, shooing the cleric away.

Jester laughed, skipping over to loop an arm through Caleb’s. She probably startled the mage, but Caleb didn’t show it so far as Beau could tell. She smirked as Jester immediately launched into asking questions about ‘who is that’ with a few ‘what does this person do’ mixed in. Caleb’s answers came in the same even lackluster tone, but Beauregard hoped that it wasn’t just her imagination that some of the tension left his shoulders.

“That was uncalled for you know.” Molly snorted, putting on a glare aimed at Beau though it lacked any real heat of anger or annoyance.

“Yeah, but it was funny. Plus, didn’t want Jester to get all worried or anything. He’s fine, really, just…” Beau trailed off, shrugging again and gesturing vaguely around them. This place wasn’t exactly welcome or fun for any of them. Beau had wanted to get _away_ from bullshit like this, no one here like most of her friends, and it definitely wasn’t somewhere Caleb enjoyed being.

“Fair enough.” Molly snorted, crossing his arms. While not a huge crowd at the moment, they were most obviously being given a great deal of space. And the gap between the other guests and Caleb had grown since Jester had joined him.

Fjord wasn’t being avoided with quite as much distance as both Tieflings, Caduceus was skirting around the crowds and seemed to be more interested in the elegant plants that decorated the interior of the palace, and Nott was still….somewhere. Yasha was getting some looks though, much like Fjord, was not being so completely avoided as Molly and Jester.

“Looks like we’re fashionably early. I don’t see any of your people, or any Assembly people.” Molly commented, eyes sweeping across the room as they entered past the guards.

The interior of the palace was brightly lit both with candle lit chandeliers and arcane lighting. The foyer was decorated with its normal displays of wealth and power of the kingdom, but was additionally adorned with a grand table. The magnificent oak furniture was covered by a fine silk cloth, platters and chalices in set out in front of each chair. There was no food set out as of yet, the planned dinner for the more selectively invited scheduled for later on in the evening, but display was a promise for the grande finale of the party.

The large pillar columns bore the Dwendalian coat of arms and magnificent banners crossing the tops. Past the foyer was the main hall, two spiral staircases on either side leading up to the upper floors. A stage had been built on the left side of the hall closer to the audience chamber. A handful of musicians were playing softly, the tune formal and light. The empty space in the center of the main hall was obviously meant to be a dance floor, though as of yet none had taken advantage of the space.

The doorways to the audience room, the throne room located past that, were closed with guards at each entrance. Guards were also stationed at each of the spiral staircases and the two doors on the left side of the hallway. The only doors not guarded were to the right of the grand hall which had servants with drinks coming in and out of.

The Nine didn’t really know what to do with themselves at current, Beauregard and Caleb being the only two that had a real purpose and plan for what they needed to do. They all kind of divided, going their own way and wandering the room, though they kept a line of sight on each other. Peace or not, most of them felt the air of unwelcome that the city, and by extent the nobles here, had shown them thus far.

Beauregard stood around for a while after Molly wandered off, keeping an eye, but eventually found Caleb and pulled him away from Jester. Trent hadn’t shown up yet, so she figured she and Caleb might as well start the whole talking with people thing. It’d probably be easier while Ikithon wasn’t hovering around.

Beau spent the first little while just introducing Caleb to the people she’d met during the past few days she’d been staying at the Cobalt Soul. He was pretty stiff and formal, something she didn’t think made the greatest impression, though she hoped the guy would relax as time went on. She was partially right, though didn’t really see it until a few hours later when the High Curator made their appearance and approached Beau and Caleb.

“Hey, Yudala.” Beauregard greeted them as they came over, displaying what was (to Caleb) an alarming amount of disrespect to the one who was in charge of the Cobalt Soul. “Welcome to the party.”

Yudala simply smiled slightly, inclining their head. “Beauregard. It is good to see you have been… busy already.”

Beau smirked, the expression shifting to a reserved watchfulness as Yudala’s attention shifted over to Caleb.

“Archmage Widowgast. I have heard good things of you from Expositor Beauregard.” Yudala said politely, inclining their head in greeting.

Calab returned the formality, though he deferred to the greater authority of the rank the High Curator held with a slight bow. Beauregard may feel comfortable dispensing with the due respect of the Curator’s position, but Caleb would not dare do the same.

“It is an honor to meet you.” Caleb stated evenly, straightening. He paused for a moment, gaze flickering over toward Beau with slight anxiety. His tone was quieter, with a polite wariness, as he continued carefully. “But, if I may, I…prefer to go by Caleb.”

He was rewarded with a quick smirk from Beau, though her attention was mostly centered on Yudala. Oddly enough, that was more comforting that the show of approval. More surprising was the amused chuckle from the High Curator, their lips twitching in a smile as they glanced over at Beau.

“See, I can be a good influence.” Beau quipped, smirk turning into a grin.

Surprising to Caleb, the leader of the Cobalt Soul was more or less… normal. Caleb didn’t get any sense of the same hidden sharpness to their bearing or any hidden threat that always clung like a cloak around Ikithon. The High Curator even called him 'Caleb' as requested. He was still wary of Yudala, though he did not hold the same fear as he’d felt meeting with Beau’s mentor Dairon. Of course, that was probably due to the stark difference in environment. This was far from private, Yudala eventually leading him and Beau towards some of the other guests and engaging them in conversation.

Caleb hung around tag teaming talking up the Nine, he and Beau both doing their best to reassure the nobles and repair the damage Trent’s rumors had done. Unsurprisingly, most worries centered around the Dynasty launching another attack, sending insurgents into the empire to fight them from within.

After a few more conversations, the hall filling up with guests and the band striking up a more danceable tune, the two of them wandered over to take a break. Mostly due to Beau’s tiring of repeating the same assurances over and over.

Jester approached them soon after, almost instantly creating a little bubble of space around them. “Hey you guys!”

“Hey Jes.” Beau greeted, giving her a short nod.

“Hallo, Jester.” Caleb echoed, giving her a tight smile.

“So, just a heads up, Nott messaged me, but Trent showed up a little while ago and Astrid is with him, so there’s that.” Jester stated after taking a breath.

Caleb instantly tensed, looking around though he didn’t see the man in question anywhere. He tried not to let it bother him too much, tried to taper the anxiety. He’d known Ikithon would be here, knew he had his own part to play in this whole plan.

“And Yasha, Nott, and me are going to try and sneak away to find that secret passage.” Jester continued, lowering her voice even further, for all it wasn’t strictly necessary given the gap between themselves and any potential evesdroppers. “I think Caduceus is still hanging out near the foyer, but Molly and Fjord are going to stay around here to keep an eye, so it should totally be fine.”

“Yeah, alright.” Beau agreed with a shrug, peering unhappily through the crowd. “Guess this is good a time as any for me and Caleb to split up, talk to people separately. You three be careful, send a message if something goes down.”

“Jester…” Caleb reached out to stop the cleric before she could leave, pausing as Beau wander off before continuing. “I have, ah, have thought about what you said. About…about telling the others. To help Eodwulf. Could… would you ask Yasha and Nott? I think I would… ah, appreciate that very much. I will speak to Caduceus, and Beauregard if I have the chance, just…”

“Say no more, Caleb, I totally have your back. I’ll fill them in and of _course_ they’ll want to help. And I know you’re not sure about Fjord, but he’d help too, but it’s okay if you don’t want to tell him right now.” Jester rambled, too pleased that Caleb was trusting them enough to ask for help to be bother by the fact that he was still scared of Fjord. That would work itself out in time, she was sure.

She looped her arm in Caleb’s turning and slowly walking with him towards the entrance where Caduceus had been hanging out earlier. Yasha was somewhere in between here and there anyway. “I mean, if you want me to talk to Fjord, I totally can, or at least feel it out you know. Make sure he’s okay with it, then if you want, we can actually tell him about it you know? And if you’re nervous at all, I can totally talk to Caduceus too, no problem.”

Caleb smiled at her, the expression slightly strained, but genuine. “No, but thank you. I, ah, would appreciate the excuse to take a breather from speaking to all of these people.”

“Caleb, you know you don’t have to talk to people the whole time.” Jester chided him gently.

Caleb flushed, looking away and stammering out agreement. “Y-yes, I- Of course, I… I know Ikithon expects me to speak with them, and Beauregard’s plan is also for me to speak with them. To… to counter the rumours and ill-will already spread by Ikithon.”

“Yeah, but you can take a break, enjoy the party.” Jester pressed.

“It… will be more difficult with him around. I had wanted to be as of much use as possible before now.” Caleb admitted.

“Hm. Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Jester sighed, coming to a stop. “But you have to promise me one thing, okay?”

Caleb drew back a little before remembering that this was Jester; she had yet to make any extravagant (or even slightly difficult) demands of him. “A-alright?”

“You have to try and enjoy the party at least a little bit and dance at _least_ once.” Jester said seriously, though she smiled at him a little at the end.

“I will try…” Caleb hedged, looking back toward the now mostly full dance floor. He knew how, of course, but getting that close to someone was... not something he preferred to do.

Jester beamed at him happily, standing on her tiptoes for a moment to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before she whirled around and ran off to meet Yasha. The Aasimar lifted a hand to him in greeting when he met her gaze, Caleb waving awkwardly back. He watched them for a moment, catching a flash of Nott’s yellow dress as they weaved back through the crowd.

At least he had a well defined list of tasks.

Find Caduceus, speak to him, perhaps Molly and Beauregard as well. Continue speaking to the other guests, though now he would have to weigh every word he said, keep aware in case Ikithon were near enough to hear. It would not do him, nor the Nine’s plans, any good for Trent to find out his student was not obeying his orders.

And, per Jester’s request, enjoy the party and at some point dance; perhaps with Jester as she seemed so insistent. She would be a safe dance partner.

Or… perhaps Molly, if he were so inclined.


	101. Chapter 101

Caleb found Caduceus in the foyer, much as Jester had said. He was some distance from the entrance to the palace, the cleric’s attention on those entering the wide doorway. The majority of guests had already arrived, so there were few enough still trickling into the party. Caleb would guess everyone important had arrived; as Ikithon had made an appearance now. His timing was usually very precise in that regard.

Caduceus glanced over at him as the wizard approached, giving a short nod. “Mister Caleb. You haven’t seen our two new friends have you? I’ve been wondering when they’ll arrive, if they’ve managed to find a way in anyway.”

“Ah, I have not.” Caleb replied, coming to a stop just within arm’s reach of Caduceus and standing with his hands clasp behind him. He could not make himself draw any closer, yet knew stopping any further away would look strange for them to have a conversation. Caleb had an image to maintain at the moment; knew he needed to keep his composure in such a public place, even though making this request of Caduceus caused anxiety to grip his heart.

“I wanted ask, ah, that is… Eodwulf is here somewhere…” Caleb began, trailing off and looking aside. He twisted the fabric of his sleeve nervously behind his back. Caduceus was quiet, thankfully not focusing his attention on Caleb and it made it easier to keep calm.

“Yes, I saw a drow earlier, thought it might have been him.” Caduceus stated easily, nodding as he looked Caleb over a moment. His attention turned back to the distant crowd out in the courtyard soon after.

“Y-yes. I mean, no. I do not think…that…is him.” Caleb explained haltingly, closing his eyes as he gathered his courage. His voice was soft, unsure as he finally spit it out. “Wulf… he is my friend.”

Caleb let out a breath, opening his eyes and meet Caduceus’ searching gaze as he anxiously awaited his reaction. He knew- thought he knew- that Caduceus would not be upset, but his heart still skipped anyway and he had to suppress the urge to cringe away.

Caduceus’ expression was gentle, his words loosening the tight grip of fear around Caleb’s heart. “your friend is ours too. We’ll gladly do what we can to help him.”

Caleb let out a relieved breath, half smiling as he looked away. Jester had been right, she hadn’t lied to him. She had meant what she said, they… all did? They were still perplexing, but they lacked the hidden motives he was so used to looking for in any interaction. Promises were kept, favors easily granted, mistakes quickly forgiven; the nine were making it clear how different from Ikithon and his like were. It was beginning to make Caleb feel guilty for the instinctual unease and fear he still felt around them at times.

Yet they were so patient. Even now Caduceus letting him stand silent and inattentive, lost in thought. Ikithon would have quickly corrected such behavior. _Had_ done so numerous times, most recently in this past week.

“Thank you, Caduceus.” Caleb murmured after a while turning and making his way back to the main celebration. He still had a job to do, still had to make Ikithon believe he was still obedient. The band had struck up a lively tune this time, many couples dancing in the center of the main hall now. The king had yet to arrive at the celebration, though Caleb thought it would probably not be too long until Dwendal arrived. Ikithon was here now, after all.

Caleb stood for a moment on his own, looking at the crowd and listening to the light din of conversations nearby. He half smiled seeing Molly across the way; the Tiefling had managed to entertain and charm some of the guests. At least, that’s what it appeared he was doing. Mollymauk was smiling widely as he spoke, hands moving in elaborate gestures as he was apparently midstory. Whatever he was saying, the four who listened seemed to be wrapped up in the telling. It was very like Mollymauk; outgoing and exuberant, charismatic and fearless. He was still getting some tense glances from many of the other guests, but if it bothered Molly he didn’t show it.

Beauregard was nowhere to be seen, but Caleb was sure she was still in the room. Though, he did not see the high curator so… perhaps they had stepped out of the main room to speak. The thought worried Caleb, remembering well how the private moment between Beau and Dairon had gone. Being taken aside by Trent was never a pleasant experience and he worried for Beauregard. He did not want her to be hurt.

Fjord was skirting around the edge of the dance floor, expression serious as he seemed to slowly stalk around the room. Despite the lingering feeling of calm from Caduceus, despite the reassurances from Jester… Fjord looked dangerous to Caleb. It was probably unfair of him; Caleb didn’t know the full story, how it had all started, but he knew enough that Fjord’s patron was just as much, if not more, controlling as Trent had been to him. As Trent would still be.

The knowledge did nothing to quell the anxious fear he felt while watching the warlock pace. He tore his eyes away, paranoid that Fjord would somehow notice his attentions, would take exception to being so closely observed by Caleb. He drew in a calming breath, turning and making his way carefully to a tables with drinks.

He froze reaching out for a glass, a sudden familiar presence at his side and a low voice speaking an expectant order over him.

“Follow me, boy.”

~~

_**Earlier That Morning** _

Getting an invitation to the palace had proved an impossible task, even for Percival and Vex’ahlia. Not for lack of trying. They'd spoken to many people, even tried just... walking through the gates. But even Percival's entitled nobility act had proved fruitless in that regard. The others were probably already inside at this point, not that they had a way of reaching out to them for help if they'd wanted to anyway. Not that they would, mainly because the whole point was to not make it appear they were associated with the Nine, in case Ikithon got wind of their presence here.

The two of them had opted not to stay with the Mighty Nine the previous evening, feeling more comfortable speaking alone with each other at an inn. The magical mansion was a secure place to stay, that was true, but Scanlan had proved more than once it was only private to the one who _owned_ it. Harmless and amusing when dealing with one they loved and trusted, less so when it concerned people they had only just met.

And, as Vex had pointed out that next morning, the wizard was hardly comfortable with them. So they had found their own lodging. Easy enough, though had taken a bit more coin than normal thanks to the celebrations and their own last minute arrival. Today, they currently wandered the city, still at a loss of how exactly they were supposed to join the so called “Mighty Nine” at this celebration.

“We could just sneak in.” Vex tossed out after far too many impossible ideas had been discussed and discarded. Her tone matter of fact and a sure indication she’d considered this to be the mostly likely outcome the entire time.

Percy breathed out a laugh, smiling affectionately. Times like these, he was quite clearly reminded who her brother was. The pair of them, twins in so many ways. Nonetheless, it was a good idea. And the best option really.

“Really, we could. It wouldn’t even be all that difficult.” Vex continued, looping her arm around Percy’s as they continued to stroll through the street.

The crowd was growing in density, a cacophony of music and voices. The nobility and those few of the merchant class invited to the palace grounds weren’t the only ones celebrating. It was more haphazard and festival like than that which was being hosted within the inner city, but it was no less a celebration. Percy didn’t blame them. They had cause to celebrate; end of a war and all.

“I take it you have something in mind?” Percy prompted.

“We did arrive directly beneath the castle. And Jester did say something about a certain hatch that most likely opens up into the palace.” Vex explained sweetly. “If we’re lucky, it won’t even be guarded.”

“And if it _is_ guarded, I’d hazard they wouldn’t be the good citizen type.” Percy guessed, brow furrowing in thought. “A connection between the Cobalt Soul and… what were they called, the Cerberus Assembly?”

Vex nodded, picking up on what he was getting at. “According to them, the tunnel connects those two factions. Who don’t get along normally.”

“They did worry about Trent’s connections and power. It seems reasonable he’d have enough of both to bring the two sides together. Mutual enemy and all that.” Percy stated, thinking aloud. “If there is going to be some kind of attempt made, and there are others involved attempting to sneak in…”

“Why, darling, it would be irresponsible of us not to do something.” Vex laughed, leaning up to kiss Percy on the cheek. “This way.”

Percy very happily let Vex lead the way, the half-elven ranger pulling him along through the crowd. This late in the morning and the streets were well and truly full now. He wondered if the Mighty Nine had begun their own half-baked plan, if one could even call it that much. He wished them the best of luck with that, truly, but he had enough experience to know that plans (especially mixed with politics) didn't often go as intended.

The crowd thinned the further from the main shopping center of the Virgil’s Circle. Vex ducked along the side roads when there was a moment she thought they were unwatched, and the two of them wound there way along toward the Tangles and the Cobalt Soul. Every so often, Percy would catch sight of the main road in a break between the buildings; families walking toward the main celebration, children dashing forward, and the occasional guard patrolling. The armored individuals were few enough this far out, though when Percy thought about it… there hadn’t been that many at the main market either.

Perhaps they were all up at the palace?

A worrying thought, but at least it made finding and entering the hidden tunnel easier. Fewer eyes they needed to hide from. Percy was blind in the darkness, letting Vex’ahlia continue to lead and assist him in avoiding the traps. However, he didn’t need to be able to see in order to notice that the tunnel was not empty nearer their destination.

Both he and Vex heard a low conversation as they approached the slight curve where the ladder upward was located. Two voices, a male and female. There were lanterns emitting a dim light as the entirety of them glowed, four of them floating near the ladder leading up. They were lighting the area just enough so the two were visible some fight feet from the ladder. Both were dressed in the style of Xhorhas, though their accents were clearly Empire.

“Ikithon’s orders were for you to assist _me_.” The male huffed snippily, voice a hushed snarl. Despite his pacing, he didn't take his eyes off his companion. “So, just cast the damn spell or else I’ll-“

“Do nothing.” The woman interrupted him quickly, tone bored for all she was keeping a careful watch and a deliberate distance from the monk. “Master Ikithon was very clear. Unless you wish to defy him?”

The monk was just as wary of the wizard as she was of him, seeming to be just as keen to keep distance and watching her movements with just as much vigor. It was obvious to Percy and Vex there was no real trust between them, for all they were working together. If nothing else, this seemed to proved Pervical’s theory correct… Trent Ikithon appeared to be able to coerce the two opposing factions to work together.

Admirable enough, though his methods (given what they’d seen of Caleb) left much to be desired.

“I’m not going to explain to _you_ the most basic of arcane limitations.” The mage continued haughtily at the monk’s silence, shifting her weight as she crossed her arms and stared at him. “The timing must be precise. You will _wait_.”

Percy looked over at Vex, her expression as worried as his own. Whatever their plans or instructions, it did not sound good. Vex was slowly, silently, preparing her bow; waiting with arrow in hand as they listened. Stealth was still a thing right now, too early in the afternoon to want to draw attention, so Bad News was going to have to wait. And he was saving Diplomacy for when he found Trent…

“How much longer are-“

“As long as it takes.” The mage interrupted again, their bickering turning into something more informative. “The last of the guests should be arriving now. Before long, Dwendal will show his face, Master Ikithon will send a message, then- and ONLY then- will we do anything.”

“You’re not in charge, I don’t take orders from the Assembly…” The man growled, shifting to face the woman fully, his back to Percy and Vex.

The woman snorted a laugh, looking up at the lights and twirling her fingers. They shifted, spreading out slightly and illuminating more of the area. “You do actually. And you should get used to it. Haven’t you been the one complaining about your people? Favoritism and… what was it? A blindness to your own great ability?”

“I should have been made an expositor years ago.”

“Because a title would solve all your worries…” The mage muttered under her breath, shifting carefully around the irate monk. She let out her own irritated sigh as she continued at a more normal volume. “Do you part and your loyalty will be rewarded, just as Master Ikithon has promised.”

Vex’ahlia slide silently back down the tunnel as the ring of light from the glowing lanterns extended towards them, Percival a half step slower in following. He misjudged the slope of the floor in the dim light, heel scuffing against the hard-packed dirt.

Both of them froze as the other two went on alert at the sound, searching the darkness for the source. The mage saw them first, her eyes connected with Percy’s. She let out a surprised sound, stepping back and immediately alerting her companion to their position. Percy knew he should have done something, should probably have taken advantage of the element of surprise but…

Vex must have seen it too because she’d held her hand from attacking as well. Too fresh was a certain other wizard’s baseless terror of them. She had called Trent “master” just as Caleb had, spoke of “defying” as if it were something unthinkable. They had no desire to harm someone who was in the same situation as their new sort of friends.

That mindset was short lived, and the decision made for them, as the monk cursed at the sight of them, the woman taking another step back and shifting the arcane lanterns to give him a better view of their newfound opponents.

Percy was quick to react when the monk charged forward, he remembered quite well how Earthbreaker had taken on Grog the results of that bout. Likely this man was nowhere near that level, but Percy was not about to leave that up to chance. Mix in a magic user of unknown skills… This could too easily go poorly and he was beginning to regret giving up the element of surprise.

Leaving his rifle on his back, Percy drew his longsword. Mostly ornamental at this point in his life, though he’d rarely used in back in the day either, it was this or nothing. Face to face was not exactly ideal for him, but if only one of them could fight at range, Percy supposed Vex was the better choice. At least she could shoot them silently.

His first swing was an embarrassing reminder that he was not as young as he used to be and he’d never been suited for close range fighting in the first place. The monk ducked under the blade, spinning around to face Percy seeing him as the main threat. He followed through with the attack, backswiping and catching the man on the shoulder.

Percival was quick to press his advantage, surging forward in an attempt to throw him off balance. Or at least push some additional distance between him and Vex. The monk parried the blade as best he could, so Percy’s strike did not hit too deeply, but he was cursing as he retaliated.

Two fists drove into Percy’s stomach, below his sternum and forced the breath from his lungs. An elbow caught him across the cheek as he was left sputtering, the taste of blood on his lips a moment later.

The monk skirted around him as Percy was dragging heaving breaths back into his lungs. Percy was feeling every bit of his age right now, and he definitely missed shooting things from afar. Behind him was the familiar soft _thwip_ of a bowstring, Percy’s opponent staggering back with a wet cough and blood dripping to the dirt flooring. He caught the second arrow, keeping to from joining the other in his torso by a mere few inches.

Vex had apparently had the same idea as Percy; focusing on the melee fighter as the most pressing issue. Though a burning cold paid between his shoulder blades quickly reminded him of the mage still to be dealt with. His cloak protected him from most of the ice, but the chill was biting enough all the same. Still, so long as she was throwing only smaller spells the magic wielder was easy enough to dismiss in favor of the monk. Given the two’s conversation, it seemed conserving energy for a main event was the point.

Either that or, most unlikely, she just didn’t have the expertise or preparation to cast more damaging spells.

Percy dogged the monk’s steps as he charged toward Vex, the half elf ranger swinging Fentrhas and deflecting one of the monk’s strikes. Percy’s blade caught him between the shoulder blades, cutting through the thick black cloak and drawing a pained grunt. The monk spun, aiming a blow at Percy, though missed as Percival back-stepped.

Vex’ahlia smoothly slung her bow back over her shoulder, drawing a mercurial metal dagger, the light dancing and shifting across the curved blade. She ducked as a beam of blue-white energy streaked past, barely giving a glance at the mage responsible. Her attention was on the opponent closest to her, using the distraction of Percy harrowing him to slip under his guard. The dagger cut deep into his side, the man letting out a pained groan.

He was getting desperate, having underestimated both Percy and Vex, something he was clearly beginning to understand. He pulled the arrow from his chest, using it as a makeshift weapon as he lunged towards Percy wildly. They collided together, Percival stumbling back and nearly falling, teeth gritted as the arrowhead jammed into the soft flesh right under his shoulder.

“Percy!” Vex called out in concern, barely feeling the cold as another bold of blue-white energy from the mage hit her mid-rift. More pressing was the monk that was about to topple her husband, that was twisting _her_ arrow into his shoulder.

She wasn’t as accurate as her brother with a dagger, but anger and worry were quite the motivators, and a quick flick of her wrist sent Whisper across the short distance. The monk’s back arched as the blade struck, the man soon slumping to the side as he began slowly bleeding out on the cavern floor. Percy shifted away from him, muttering curses as he got to his feet, holding a hand over his bleeding injury.

“I’ll be fine.” He assured Vex, knowing without needing to look that she was worried. The wound wasn't that deep and had not hit anything vital. It hurt, but the man hadn't had time to really dig it deep enough to do serious damage. Vex's breath of relief was quiet, audible only to him as she stopped a foot or so away. Together, with Vex’ahlia drawing her bow once more, they turned to the remaining mage.

The mage held her hands up, taking a step back as their attention turned her way. Her gaze flickered between the two of them and her fallen companion quickly, before she spat out a short, barked incantation. The air around her shimmered, folding into itself as the floating arcane lanterns vanished. Percy jerked forward, even knowing it was no use, as the mage vanished on the spot.

Percival sighed into the silent darkness. “Well, that can’t be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy
> 
> Things are happening, shinnanigans are being had, this chapter and 103 are comparatively long, and I'm always exhausted. 
> 
> D&D!!!
> 
> Also!!! Super excited I get to play my first ever D&D game here soon you guys!!


	102. Chapter 102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This happens somewhat around the time Percy and Vex are getting into troubles.

A sharp _crack_ echoed down the empty hallway. Caleb wasn’t prepared for the blow, though he knew he should have been. He half stumbled before scrambling to stand upright, arms folding obediently behind him as they should have been all along.

He’d followed Ikithon through what had been a dining hall of sorts, though the tables were cleared and the room had stood empty. An open archway led to an empty hallway, servants’ quarters and storage likely further down, though Caleb wasn’t given opportunity to find out. Instead, a report was demanded and in that he had displeased the older mage. Too many excuses given, a lack of respectful attention, far less progress than Ikithon demanded… numerous reasons for Trent’s anger.

“Idiot boy!” Ikithon spat out, fury seething from him as he whirled and paced, then stalked closer again. “Barely a month passed and already you forget what I have taught you!”

Caleb had barely opened his mouth to apologize when every nerve lit with pain, Ikithon’s hand sparking as he gripped Caleb’s shoulder with bruising force, shoving his back against the wall behind him. Caleb choked back a pained cry, remaining silent and bearing the discipline. If he could beg forgiveness, he thought he might, but he dare not try and speak. Already he had crossed Ikithon, broken the rules and incited his anger.

It was wrong, and Caleb hated it; hated how Ikithon’s anger filled him with fear. He hated how he might beg forgiveness if he could speak, but would not try for fear of screaming in pain. Hated himself. Hated Ikithon. He grasped at the fury as if it could drown out the fear and pain of this moment.

It felt like forever, the pain dragging on until Caleb was shaking despite how he tried to remain still, a sweat breaking out across his forehead. Caleb let out a gasped breath as Trent finally stepped back, though the man still remained within arm’s reach. He was still angry, glowering at Caleb in disapproval.

Caleb knew he should stand up straight, at attention as was expected, but he could not keep himself from using the wall as support. His heart raced, the anger and hatred hard to hold onto while in such a familiar position, waiting with fearful expectation of additional correction. The freedom the Nine offered seemed so far away…

A silent reminder flickered between Trent’s fingers, lightning playing along the back of his hand as he stood far too close. His expression shifted, a mask of disappointed concern falling over his features. “Do you think I enjoy this? You know better, I have taught you better. Weakness is not tolerated. You know this.”

It was almost believable, the concern and disappointment. The words held a patronizing tone, a rhetoric Caleb had heard repeated over him for so many years growing up. He had believed them once, believed Trent meant only to make him the best that he could be, to make him stronger.

But he could see differently, if only just now, could see that Trent did enjoy it. Enjoyed the power he held over Caleb, over all of his students. It was odd to realize that in this moment, to see the lie in the patronizing smile, the threat concealed in the assurances.

Knowing didn’t help him feel any less amount of fear at current and the slight tremor in his voice was no act.

“I am sorry to have failed you, Master. I will not do so again.” Caleb apologized, making sure to include the respectful title as he’d been taught.

“You have been neglecting your orders, boy.” Ikithon stated tone shifting smoothly from false sincerity to a sharp annoyance. The older mage’s eyes narrowing at the slight flinch the words produced from Caleb, though he made no move to correct him again just yet. “I have instructed you to speak to the gathered nobility, yet you stay leashed to those imbeciles.”

“They-“ Caleb began, slightly breathless. His words were soon stopped as Ikithon backhanded him, the electric cantrip playing along his hand giving greater force to the blow.

“Do not offer me excuses as if that would make your failure acceptable. Or have you forgotten even that simple-“ Trent began, voice a furious hiss that was interrupted by a light knock.

Trent and Caleb both looked over at the sound, finding Fjord half leaning casually against the door frame. “Mister Ikithon.” He drawled, expression almost friendly except for the sharp look in his eyes. “If you don’t mind. I’d like a word with my mage.”

Caleb’s skin crawled at the phrase, stomach full of an icy fear at the warlock’s expression. Fjord had purposefully neglected to use Ikithon’s title, something that would certainly irritate the man, and currently Caleb wasn’t entirely sure which of them he feared more right now.

Ikithon’s expression morphed into his normal political politeness, a smile put in place as he stepped back from Caleb and inclined his head to the warlock. “Of course, I apologize for monopolizing his time. It has been some time since I have seen my student, I hope you-“

Fjord snorted, ignoring formalities and striding past Ikithon to grab Caleb by the shoulder, dragging him further down the hall without another glance at Trent. He slowed from the quick march after a few feet, looking back to watch Ikithon vanish through the open doorway, presumably to rejoin the party in the main foyer.

_My mage_. Fjord didn’t know where that had come from, why those words had slipped out, why they tasted so good on his tongue. Well… he did know, but he hated it. Hated the slight shudder he could feel run through Caleb as he guided the wizard a few feet further away from the party. Fjord hadn’t been trying to, but he’d guess that Trent was probably a bit more secure in thinking Caleb was more than eager to return to him. The poorly concealed terror on Caleb’s face was certainly no act.

Dammit, he hadn’t been trying to scare him… Grabbing him was, in hindsight, probably the opposite of helpful, but he’d mostly been focused on getting the mage away from Ikithon. Except now, Caleb had a distant look in his eyes, compliant under his hand, and Fjord needed to snap him out of it before they went back to the celebration. Gods only knew what conclusions people would draw; Trent was doing enough damage with his gossiping as it was.

First things first though…

“Caleb, are you hurt?” Fjord asked, bringing them to a halt and withdrawing his hand from the wizard’s shoulder. He sighed, shaking his head and correcting himself before Caleb had a chance to answer. “No, scratch that. I know you are. Tell me, how bad is it?”

“I am able to perform whatever task you desire.” Caleb answered in monotone, shifting to fold his arms behind him with his gaze fixed on the floor.

So pretty bad then, Fjord interpreted, swallowing the urge to curse. Might not be so much physical harm, but Caleb wasn’t doing well. Trent was not good for Caleb, that was for damned sure, and Fjord wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it. In fact, he suspected the few… incidents… between himself and Caleb probably just made the current moment worse.

“Okay, not what I….meant.” Fjord sighed, frustration curling in his chest. That, more than anything, worried him. His own frustration had led far too easily into Caleb getting hurt because _he_ couldn’t control himself. He didn’t feel that same push, that anger, but he was afraid of it all the same.

Caleb held back a flinch as Fjord sighed, struggling to keep himself still and not cringe away from Fjord’s raised hand as the warlock ran his fingers through his hair in obvious frustration. Yet the expected discipline did not come, instead a gentle order.

“Alright, alright, fine. I just… Can you tell me what that was about? What did he say to you?” Fjord asked tone demanding but not as harsh as Caleb expected.

On solid ground once more, Caleb obediently answered. “Ikithon was displeased I had not spoken with the nobles as had been my instruction.”

Fjord was quiet for a moment, expression thoughtful and not focused on Caleb when he chanced a look up at the warlock. Caleb dropped his gaze quickly, waiting the verdict for whatever it was Fjord was thinking.

“Look, go find Caduceus, okay? Ask him to heal you, even if you don’t think your injuries are that bad. Then go talk to the nobles, let Trent think you’re doing what he says. Just… answer any questions they ask honestly, okay? I don’t want to tell you what to say, and definitely don’t tell them what Ikithon wants you to say….”

Fjord trailed off, brow furrowing as he shook his head. “Go see Caduceus first though. And maybe Molly.. someone better at this than me.”

Caleb nodded as he put on a neutral expression, tucking away the fear and anxiety. He did not understand what Fjord meant by ‘someone better at this’ than him. Better at what, exactly? Not disciplining him, because Fjord had not done so this time and none of the rest of the group would administer discipline at all.

Still, he could not embarrass the Nine by showing uncertainty or fear. Caduceus presence was calming, as was Molly’s, and he would gladly follow Fjord’s orders to find one of them. Until then, all he could do was push himself away, lock his feeling down and be what he was told to be. There were, presumably, still several hours before Ikithon’s plan (or the Nine’s) would be put into motion, he had to hold it together.

Fjord let him back to the rest of the party, splitting off as they reached the main foyer. Caleb moved carefully through the crowd, the majority of his attention on searching for the taller form of Caduceus. He had only just caught sight of the Firbolg and started in his direction when a hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him to a stop.

Looking beside him, Caleb saw one of the servants, dressed elegantly as all the palace staff were for this occasion. The man was nondescript, but his gaze was so familiar. A burning intensity that seemed to look right through him, skimming in appraisal over Caleb’s form. The man’s gaze shifted after a moment, turning to focus in a glare on Fjord as the half-orc engaged himself in a conversation halfway across the room.

“Wulf?” Caleb whispered in a low question, remembering what Jester has relayed to him that morning. Astrid had wanted Eodwulf to be disguised as a servant…

The other said nothing, meeting Caleb’s eyes for another brief moment before releasing his arm and slipping back into the crowd.

Caleb took a step after him, half a mind to follow, but stopped short. No. Ikithon would doubtless be watching. He would not risk Eodwulf being harmed, would not be the cause of him suffering discipline as Trent had just administered to him. Ikithon expected him to speak with the nobles, as he had just been reminded were his orders.

First, and more pressing at current, would be following Fjord’s order.

Caleb found Caduceus inspecting some plants off on his own, thankfully a good distance away from the festivities. He approached the Firbolg, dropping his gaze respectfully when the cleric’s attention fell on him. “Caduceus, I… apologize for interrupting. Fjord instructed me to find you.” Caleb repeated obediently, standing at attention, and fixing his gaze on the plants Caduceus had been inspecting.

Caduceus grimaced in concern, abandoning his semi-conversation with the flora and focusing on Caleb. “Has something happened? What’s wrong?”

“It is- ah, not so bad, just a minor, ah, minor conversation with Trent.” Caleb began, finding himself oddly calmer already. Caduceus’ first instinct was concern, not anger. That, by itself, was reassuring.

“Oh.” Caduceus intoned, frown deepening as the tone of concern only grew. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am alright. It is not so bad, as I… ah, well. Fjord wanted me to find you, so, ah, I have.” Caleb explained, shifting his stance to curl one arm over his stomach, the other picking at his sleeve. “I should… Trent expressed his unhappiness I had not followed orders. And I should… should.. ah. Might I go…?”

Caduceus tilted his head, looking Caleb over carefully. He seemed out of sorts, certainly, and he was without a doubt waiting for Caduceus’ permission to turn to leave. Yet he didn’t seem afraid, at least not as much as when he’d first approached.

“Sure. I think I’ll go with you. Well, follow behind anyway. No need to antagonize mister Ikithon any further. But I’ll keep an eye out, if that’s okay with you?” Caduceus offered, glancing toward to the denser crowd. He didn’t see Trent Ikithon at first glance, not amid the moving crowd, but after a few moments he caught sight of him.

A little more of the tension seeped out of Caleb, the wizard even offering a small anxious smile as he nodded his assent to Caduceus’ offer. With another beat of hesitation, Caleb turned and headed back the way he’d come.

Caduceus waited until Caleb had a few yards head start, letting him get far enough away that hopefully Ikithon wouldn’t take exception or preferably even notice, then followed after. He just needed to keep the mage in sight, make sure Ikithon didn’t get a chance to pull him off on their own again.


	103. Chapter 103

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter of shinnanigans. I do hope you enjoy them.

The festivities were interrupted by King Dwendal not long after Caleb had rejoined the party. The mage made a point to be sure Ikithon noticed him speaking to other guests without any of the Nine nearby, though with the royal now attending much of his old master’s attention had shifted. A blessing, because Caleb hadn’t been looking forward to the dance between appearing to obey Ikithon without actually obeying and damaging the bit of ground he and Beauregard had managed to gain thus far.

Dwendal’s arrival soon moved the party along towards the tables and chairs, the higher nobility taking their own seats and those without a rigid social hierarchy were left to find their own place at the setting. Not particularly caring to fight for a seat next to the thronelike chair the King occupied, most of the Mighty Nine drifted toward the far end.

Around the king were a handful of guard, their golden armor well-polished but still bore signs that it was not just for show. They kept close to their king, but still a distance enough that the nobility and Dwendal’s advisors could approach and speak to him without getting in the way of those seated at his left and right. Master Trent Ikithon sat at the King’s right hand, Martinet Ludinus Da’leth the next seat over. It was a strange sight to Caleb, the hierarchy all wrong, but the Martinet showed no outward displeasure at the arrangement.

To the King’s left was the Drow elf; silvery white curled over one shoulder, cloak draped meticulously over the back of his chair, blue cloth curled at his neck like a scarf. His eyes tracked the conversation Ikithon was currently engaging in with King Dwendal, expression neutral though his gaze was sharp. Beside the ‘ambassador’ sat Astrid, hair curled neatly atop her head as she continuously scanned the crowd of guests. Eodwulf was no where to be found, but if Caleb had to guess he would bet the servant who attended the Cerberus members nearest Dwendal was the disguised Wulf.

Jester and Yasha had reappeared, a familiar halfling seated beside them. Nott received less stares in that form, so Caleb understood the choice to don a disguise. Fjord soon took a seat beside the blue Tiefling, smiling and speaking to her. The warlock didn’t appear to still be upset over what had transpired earlier, though there was a tension to his expression that Caleb tried not to worry about. Fjord was always tense, at current, it seemed.

Caduceus and Molly were even further down the line, the bloodhunter looking irritated, but not angry, and Caleb guessed he probably hadn’t heard about his little… talk with Ikithon. Should he have gone to Molly and told him? The Tiefling had wanted him to speak up when he was hurt, but it… really hadn’t been that bad this time. Fjord had stepped in early on.

Later, perhaps.

The last of his friends was, oddly enough, seated further up the table closer to King Dwendal. Beauregard had found a place next to High Curator Yudala. She did not appear hurt, but given his own recent side conversation with Ikithon, Caleb wondered if he might find a way to speak to her without further inciting Trent’s ire. In any case, the Curator’s position in the seating was far enough away from the seat of power that it was proof enough to Caleb their interpretation of Trent’s influence was genuine.

Once the meal had been cleared away, Caleb making a point to engage those nearest him in conversation when Ikithon sent a _look_ his way, a troop arrived to perform. There were a few minutes of busy chaos; guests moving out of the way as the large tables were removed, performers moving around and setting up the halfstage needed, half the guards keeping an eye on the King as he moved amid the room, and the other half setting up the King’s seat to watch the show.

Halfway through the hired theatre troupe’s show, Jester felt a quiet sigh from the Traveler, a gentle nudge toward the west side of the castle. Nott, Yasha, and herself had explored most every room they could find on the east side (finding the performing troupe and their stage in the process), but they’d stopped for the dinner on their way to the other side.

Theatre was not her patron’s favorite thing and honestly, Jester found this particular show _very_ boring. And the Traveler never failed to give her good advice when he spoke up like this unasked, so Jester wriggled her way as carefully as she could through the crowd to find Nott and Yasha. She received a few glares in the process, _”accidentally”_ hit one exceptionally snide person with her tail (much to the chuckled amusement of the Traveler), and knocked off one old lady’s hat before she found the two in question. Both Yasha and Nott were more than happy to abandon the dull play to follow Jester’s ‘hunch’.

All attention was on the entertainment, so the trio had little trouble slipping past the few guards at the doors and making their way once more to the hallways of the castle.

They wandered at Jester’s whim for a while, the cleric getting a little lost in the elaborate paintings along the hallways. After a few frames, she was able to piece together what the story was, her nose wrinkling in distaste at the realization. “Oh my gosh, do they really have to decorate the palace like this?”

“What is it?” Yasha inquired, following Jester’s gaze as they continued moving.

“Crusades! I mean look! That’s just-“ Jester hmphed, stopping and gesturing at a particularly unflattering depiction of a group of Tieflings.

“Well, _I_ think it could use a little work…” Nott suggested, looking up at Jester and wiggling her eyebrows. “There’s got to be some paints or something you can use around here somewhere. I mean there are so many rooms with so much stuff in them and-“

Voices caught Jester’s attention, the sound of feet approaching in a rush.

“Shush shush shush shush shush!” Jester whisper yelled in panic, all but pouncing on Nott in a rush to cover the goblin’s mouth. She ducked around into a little alcove, Nott still in her hands, and the two of them carefully peered around the corner. Yasha had mirrored their actions, pressing herself as best she could into the much too small for her alcove on the opposite side of the hall.

The voices Jester had heard grew louder, clanking footsteps of quick moving feet in armor coming from further down near the corner at the end of the hallway. Jester caught a glimpse of them as they passed the corner, continuing on without turning to come down their way. As expected, there was a person in armor. Four of them, actually. And leading the way was a female dressed in Xhorhasian clothing.

“…-kely dead. Must inform Master we have uninvited guests.”

There was a pause, the one in armor likely having asked a question, though Jester couldn’t hear what it was. The woman’s reply was snappish, fading as the group continued on their quick moving path.

“No, I don’t know who they are! Some woman with a bow and  some whit-“

Jester, Nott, and Yasha were all quiet for a moment, waiting to make sure the group was truly gone before relaxing enough to step out of their makeshift hiding spots.

“Do you think they were talking about Percy and Vex?” Nott inquired, looking up at Jester beside her.

“Maybe they were trying to get in through the secret passage?” Yasha guessed. “Jester, if you do that- that thing, were you can find your ribbon you left? We might be able to find them.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Jester agreed, reaching up to grasp the symbol of the traveler. She closed her eyes, picturing the ribbon in question and waiting for a few breaths. At the very edges of her senses, she felt a slight pull. She grinned, nodding in the direction the guard and Xhorhasian dressed person had come from. “This way guys!”

Jester led the way around the corner, Nott ranging ahead as they went. The goblin ducked her head into a few rooms they passed, those that were unlocked anyway, not having given up completely on her picture improvement idea. Most turned out to be storage closes with nothing of interest, but a few were guests’ quarters, and not all of them empty. Two storage closets, three locked doors, and two empty rooms down, Nott was unfortunate enough to peer into a room with four crowns guard playing some card game, multiple cups littering the table between them.

As she closed the door with a near silent ‘click’, Nott and the others heard one of the guards speaking. “Hang on, could have sworn the door…”

The three of them all looked at each other, quickly scrambling to hurry away as silently as possible. They made it around the next corner, no where near quietly, as the guard called out towards them “Hey! Stop!”

There was a muffled noise of voices, the guard presumably calling his companions, and armored footsteps following them. They were out of sight still, so the three of them hurried down the hall only to stop as around the next corner appeared the familiar forms of Vex and Percy, also in a hurry.

They met in the middle, Percy and Vex looking over the shoulder of the other group, hands drifting to their weapons. Vex lifted an eyebrow, turning her gaze to Jester. “Are they someone we should worry about?”

“Hold on, hold on, I’ve got an idea.” Jester whispered in a rush to the others, holding up her hands briefly. She took a deep breath, then turned to take a regal step toward the guards as the stopped a six or so feet away. Jester put on her best smile, trying her best to mimic her momma’s eloquent way of speaking, hands twirling in an intricate design in the air. “What is it you want? We are very busy, good sir.”

“Well…” The lead guard began, brow furrowing as he hesitated. His tone smoothed out into something a little more polite, though still suspicious. “What is your business here?”

“We are guests of the banquet, of course.” Jester decreed.

“Well, ma’am, even as a guest, you shouldn’t- I mean, going around , ah… looking into rooms is a little.” The guard flustered, going red in the face as one of his companions kicked him and hissed at him for being rude.

“Sorry my lady, Jed here must have been mistaken.” One of the others chimed in, smiling dopily at Jester.

“Oh, of couse, of course.” Jester said, giving an airy wave. “I’m sure he did not mean to say that I was _snooping_ , how unladylike.”

Jester flicked her tail at a muffled giggle behind her, smile growing as the sound quickly turned into a smothered curse from Nott. “We will be going back to the party now, you may continue your duties.”

The four guards parted to either side of the hall as Jester strode past. Yasha, Vex, and Percy followed in her wake like an odd entourage, Nott slipping unnoticed in between them.

“That was well done.” Percy stated, once they were well away from the guard. “But I don’t think rejoining the party is a great idea just yet.”

“We ran into a little trouble sneaking in. That secret tunnel under the castle was not as unguarded as I’d hoped.” Vex added. “There were two people dressed in dark clothing, greys and black armor. It sounded as if there was one each from the Cerberus Assembly and the Cobalt Soul.”

“The mage got away.” Percy intoned dryly.

“Oof, that’s not good.” Jester commented, pulling a face.

“We saw someone wearing those type clothes. She went by with some guards.” Yasha recalled, glancing at Jester and Nott. “Remember.”

“I think it’s in everyone’s best interest if we find her before she can warn anyone else that we are here.” Percy advised.

There were nods all around and Yasha, Jester, and Nott led the way to where they had last seen the guards with the mage heading.


	104. Chapter 104

Once the performing troupe concluded their show, the festivities continued.

It was rather monotonous, and a bit pointless, in Caleb’s opinion. A so called celebration of the peace, and likely was simply that outside of the castle grounds, but here it was merely a way for the nobility to vie for power. None cared to be anywhere near the Drow from Xhorhas… who was curiously absent again. Caleb knew he was not as he seemed, but exactly who was under that disguise remained a mystery.

Ikithon was nowhere to be seen, Astrid was equally absent at present, and Caleb knew he’d never be able to pick Eodwulf out of the crowd while his friend was disguised. King Dwendal was still present and presiding over the celebrations, so there was no cause to worry, though Caleb did wonder (and worry) what his former teacher was up to at current. It was unlike him to abandon his place beside the seat of power, leaving his influence open to other interested parties. In fact, the High Curator was taking advantage of Trent’s absence to speak with Dwendal.

Either way, now seemed a good a time as ever to keep his promise to Jester. Unfortunately, the cleric was _also_ nowhere to be seen. Asking a stranger was not desirable and would not work for multiple reasons. For one, he was supposed to be trying to have ‘fun’ and asking one of the other guests would end with him being far too nervous and wary.

Yasha and Nott were still absent as well, presumably with Jester. Fjord was pacing around the room again, but Caleb had absolutely _no_ inclination to dance with him. In fact, he had a rather deep desire to avoid coming into such close contact with the warlock at the moment.

Caduceus didn’t seem the type to wish to dance and neither did Beauregard. Which left only Molly, much to Caleb’s delight ( somewhat of an odd feeling for him).

He very purposefully did not look too intensely into the reasoning why he’d run through the list of all possible others before settling on the decision to _actually_ walk up to Mollymauk and request a dance. He did want to, for all it was a daunting thought to do so. As much as he trusted Molly’s promises, a feat of itself, he was still anxious.

Molly would not hurt him, but who was to say if he would even _want_ to dance. Or if Caleb would be able to perform up to his standards? The last thing Caleb wanted to do was embarrass Molly or disappoint him.

Dancing wasn’t foreign to Caleb, for all it had been quite some time since he’d had to exercise that particular skill. Even then, though, he’d never done it for fun. It had always been for a purpose, or a direct order from Ikithon for some objecting. He wondered if the distinction would make a difference. The process of asking was certainly differnt, more difficult without the threatening incentive of disobedience and the consequences that came with it.

It wasn’t difficult to find the Tiefling, no one stood out in a crowd quite like the bloodhunter. Mollymauk was on his own at the moment, drink in hand as he impassively watched the rather formal dance being performed at current. Caleb took a slow breath in an attempt to calm his rising nerves, then began making his way towards Molly.

Caleb guessed that some of what he and Beauregard had been doing was working, as the crowd wasn’t leaving quite so large a gap around Mollymauk. They weren’t running to mingle and socialize with the bloodhunter, but at least he wasn’t getting quite so many judgmental looks. At the very least, it made approaching him simple enough.

Molly’s attention was quick to turn his way, smiling and lifting the drink in his hand as a greeting.

“Hallo, Molly.” Caleb said quietly, returning Molly’s smile with his own awkward one. He paused, shifting around to scan the room as he moved closer to Molly. Reassured that anyone who might have an issue were nowhere nearby, he looked back over at Molly. “Tanz mit mir? Ah, would you- l-like to dance?”

Molly paused for a moment, his expression surprised before slowly morphing into delight. “I would love to.”

Caleb heart skipped in an odd mix of relieve, nervousness, and happiness. Molly had accepted and, much as previously, had not seemed to mind at all the use of Zemnian. He waited as Molly took a few steps away to leave his drink on one of the ledges of the marble columns, tentatively offering his hand as the bloodhunter returned.

Caleb carefully led Molly to the outer edges of the dance floor, the Tiefling graciously letting him direct them toward the furthest corner far away from the center of attention. His heart was racing with nervous anxiety, worry he would somehow mess this up. He was confident he would not anger Molly, trusted that he wouldn’t hurt him, but Caleb didn’t want to be a disappointment either.

His nerves must have show because, when Molly turned to face Caleb, he smiled gently and offered in a soft tone. “You can change your mind if you want. I don’t mind and I won’t get upset.”

“N-no, no.” Caleb denied quickly, face somehow turning a darker shade of red. “It is not, ah… t-that is… I am, ah, just… out of practice.”

His hands shook at the admittance, reflexively looking around for Ikithon as he curled his arms close to himself. The man would never have tolerated Caleb outright admitting such weakness, minor as it was. Even knowing Trent wasn’t here anymore, Caleb couldn’t help but to anticipate the repercussions of his words.

Caleb couldn’t stop himself from flinching back a step as Molly laughed and reached to put a hand on his shoulder. He managed to keep himself from stepping further away, heart leaping up into his throat unbidden, mindful of the crowd around them.

Molly let out a hollow chuckle, dropping his hand and trying to play it off. “I’m sure your skills are fine. Better than me even. I’ve never been much of a dancer, but I’ll try not to step on your feet.”

Caleb’s gaze flickered up to meet Molly’s, though the mage looked away quickly. Guilt curled in his chest, embarrassment a close second. He hadn’t meant to pull away, knew Molly would not harm him. He was relieved Molly did not appear disappointed or upset enough to change his mind about accepting. He was upset though, that was clear, so Caleb resisted the instinctive urge to apologize.

“I, ah, promise not to step on yours?” Caleb offered instead, holding out a hand in invitation.

Molly smiled and took it, his other hand gentle and painless coming to rest on Caleb’s tense shoulder. The mage was able to relax after a few breaths, the two of them moving in slow step with the current music being played.

It made Molly feel marginally better, that Caleb wasn’t actually scared or only doing this because he thought he had to. Jester had told him about her trying to make sure Caleb had some fun, though he hadn’t expected Caleb to ask _him_ to dance. That had been a pleasant surprise.

Less pleasant was the guilty as hell feeling for whatever it was he’d said or done to make Caleb flinch away from him. He should have known better than to just…

“I am sorry… I did not mean to spoil the party for you.” Caleb apologized quietly, voice a quiet whisper.

Worry joined the guilt, because of _course_ Caleb would blame himself. And it wasn’t his fault at all, but before Molly could even open his mouth to reassure him, Caleb continued.

“I know you would not, you do not even know the spell- ah, but you would not, regardless.” Caleb took a slow breath, pausing long enough for them to turn in time with the music, before continuing and his next words filled Molly with a sick sense of dread.

“I am not hurt. I promise, I am not. Not enough to- but, Trent took me aside earlier, ah… he was not pleased I had spent so much time so close to Beauregard. Neglecting his orders…” Caleb explained slowly, and it was obvious to Molly he was choosing his words very carefully. “That is why- ah, it- it became one of his favored ways to discipline. A simple cantrip. Only requires touch.”

Molly frowned to himself, trying to smooth out the expression into something more neutral. Bastard had made Caleb wary of something so simple as contact. He said nothing though, letting Caleb speak. The mage wasn’t meeting his gaze, face flush and filled with a shame that had no place being there. But if he were willing to open up, if this helped, Molly would listen.

“I… ah… w-wanted to… to ask. Back at Gandre, when we first met… if you- i-if you were not trying to discipline me, why… why did you hit me?” Caleb asked, shoulders hitching up defensively under Molly’s hand.

Molly swallowed a sigh, guilt twisting in his stomach again. He hadn’t expected the question, but honestly was glad to have a chance to maybe explain himself. And apologize, he hadn’t done that near enough. Would _never_ be able to apologize enough for **that**.

He just hated how the quiet, shakily spoken question had Caleb going tense again, hands trembling lightly where they rested on Molly’s form.

“Gods, you have no idea how that still bothers me. I’m so sorry. You’re right, I wasn’t trying to discipline you, that never even… And I wasn’t trying to hurt you either, I just…” Molly expressed quietly, an urgent guild in his tone. “It’s no excuse, and again I’m sorry, but we were on a battlefield and you were just standing there with this blank look. I’ve seen it a couple times on other people during the war during or after a fight. Again, not an excuse, I didn’t know you and didn’t think. Just did what I’d seen work to snap _them_ out of it.”

Caleb looked down, considering Molly’s words and hiding in a pretense of concentrating on the steps of the dance. It parted them for a moment, giving Caleb a few seconds as the tune rose and fell to a slower beat once more. He spoke carefully once the were close together once again, the music a slow backdrop beginning to move to a more upbeat tune.

“Trent would always say, excuses do not make failure acceptable. Even if the task given had been impossible from the start, even when the reason for failing had been outside of my control. I… I think that they were… those were- are, excuses. Not reasons. Trent used many things as… as excuses to- to harm me, though he never explicity voiced it as such. You had a reason for it. At Gandre. It was not pleasant, you were all very frightening and I had thought…”

Caleb shook his head, brow furrowing. He would have feared them regardless of Molly that day. He didn’t not want Molly to blame himself for that. He still feared them now, at times. Mostly it was an echo of expectation; for all but Fjord, he held a certain amount of confidence that they truly meant him no harm.

Steeling his nerve, Caleb looked up to meet Molly’s gaze, speaking in a soft, if somewhat hesitant, tone. “I understand why. Why you did that. And. Ah, I forgive you, if- if that, ah…” Caleb trailed off, face flushing at the expression on Molly’s face. It was so soft, a surprised smile playing along the Tiefling’s lips.

Too soon the song was over, the moment broken as Caleb stepped back and cleared his throat. “A-anyway, ah… thank you. Jester will be happy I-“

“Caleb.” A smooth feminine voice interrupted, Astrid claiming their attention as she smiled and stepped forward. Her attention flickered over to Molly, smile still in place but colder. “I will return him shortly, if you do not mind.”

She didn’t wait for permission, simply reached over to grip Caleb’s wrist and pulled him further to the center of the dance floor. It was by habit Caleb turned to face her, Astrid leading as was always the way in this circumstance. And there was that tense discomfort he always associated with dancing; the feeling of being too exposed here at the center of attention and the pressure of living up to his current partners exacting standards.

He could see Molly’s worry under the irritated expression he wore, wished there was a way he could reassure the other. Astrid had remained here instead of leading him off privately and Caleb expected this was more an update to his instructions rather than anything else.

“What _exactly_ are you doing?” Astrid demanded in a quiet whisper.

“I am attempting to please them enough that they will follow me where Master orders when the time comes.” Caleb replied, putting a hint of frustration in his tone.

“Irritate the monk, I’m sure she would gladly take you aside.” Astrid smirked.

“The choice of _where_ a lesson is taught is not up to me. As you well know.” Caleb replied, the frustration in his tone real this time. What he’d said was true, but it was frustrating and… wrong applying it to Beauregard.

The lie appeared to be the correct choice, however, as he could feel some of the tension relax in Astrid. Caleb tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing. “What has happened?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Astrid snapped at him quickly. She let out a breath, tone reluctant as she continued. “The Taldorians are further along than I had anticipated. Fool Illiad must have left something… Things are happening more quickly than planned. Be ready. When the king leaves, you are to wait five minutes, then bring those… Mighty Nine… to the second floor council chambers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that slow clicky-ity click going up on a roller coaster? Anyone feeling that in your stomach just yet?


	105. Chapter 105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a little bit bad about the new slow update schedule. Or.... rather... the lack of any KIND of schedule.
> 
> But I'm still stoked about this story and where it's going! So never fear!

Caleb made his way carefully back over to Molly, keeping his head slightly bowed and sneaking a quick glance at Astrid. She was watching him, though he’d guess more with the purpose of finding a scapegoat for Ikithon’s anger than any true suspicious of himself. Else he would be on his way to have a very different, and _very_ painful, conversation with Trent.

Either way he would need to do something to reassure her, give her some report she could bring back to Ikithon so he would not abandon or change the plan. His old master had patience, had waited this long, and Caleb could easily foresee Trent postponing his coup if anything threated the success.

“Caleb, are you-“ Molly began to ask, and with some trepidation Caleb cut him off.

“You should be angry, annoyed at the very least, with that interruption. Or at least… pretend to be?” Caleb stated, unable to keep his tone from tilted up into a question at the end. He held the same apologetic posture he’d folded himself into on the way over, though he did look up and attempt a smile to reassure Molly.

“I am not hurt, I promise. A-and I will explain, ah, but Astrid is…”

Caleb’s smile soon faded to nothing because, glancing up at Molly, the Tiefling certainly looked annoyed. Mollymauk’s red gaze flickered over Caleb’s shoulder, toward Astrid he guessed. That was fine, and the deepening look of irritation would likely be the reassurance she needed.

It was the opposite of reassuring to Caleb, his entire body going rigid as Molly put a hand at the base of his neck to lead him further away from the crowd. His stomach twisted in anxiety as he automatically followed the gentle guiding pressure. Molly’s claws were soft pin pricks against Caleb’s skin, palm a firm pressure as they walked. It was in stark contrast to how Ikithon would have handled him; something Caleb focused on to quell the mounting fears.

Ikithon’s hands would have gripped him with bruising force, would have had a sharp tingle of electricity, if he were angry enough not to be subtle. Molly’s was a bare pressure, warm and soft despite the damage Caleb knew he was doubtless capable of. It made it easier to not be afraid, to keep his feet following willingly beside the Tiefling.

Until it wasn’t.

Caleb balked as he realized Molly was leading him the same way Ikithon had early. The “pretend” annoyance suddenly becoming too real, especially given he was not completely certain Molly wasn’t _actually_ angry. A sliver of doubt, enough for his heart to sink and his feet to slow.

“M-molly, wait, ple-“ Caleb stammered, inwardly cringing at how pathetic that sounded.

Much to Caleb’s relief, Molly immediately stopped.

“Sorry, sorry, was that too much?” Molly asked, tone hushed and worried as he turned them away from the doorway to step behind a column and out of sight of the majority of the party.

Caleb breathed a sigh, shoulders dropping slightly in relief. “Ja, ah, no, I mean. It was good, I think. She was, ah, should be satisfied. But, the others, we should…”

Caleb paused, taking a moment to collect himself. He was surprisingly accustomed to Molly letting him be so…. himself. But now was no time for that, no time for weakness and uncertainty. Trent was dangerous, was putting his plan into action, and as terrified of outright defying the man as Caleb might be… he would lock those fears away and deal with the mission at hand.

His voice was calmer, more assured as he began again. “I will explain to everyone, but Trent’s plan is moving. When the king leaves.”

Molly grimaced, not at all reassured by the unsettling way Caleb just systematically closed off his emotions. Seeing it up close it was…. Well, it was kind of like back at Gandre, but not as bad as Zadash at least. All business and no emotion, although Molly guessed that made sense given the risk involved in their current endeavor. More risky for Caleb because, if they failed, the Mighty Nine would probably all just be executed (those who hadn’t died in the fight), but Molly could definitely see Trent being cruel enough to let Caleb live and pay for his defiance another way.

Definitely risky.

“I’ll get the others.” Molly volunteered solemnly, shifting slightly to scan across the crowd. He spotted Caduceus already headed their way. “Save your spells, something tells me we’ll need them.”

Molly glanced back over at Caleb to watch him shift into a very military stance, the mage not saying anything but apparently agreeing with Molly’s statement. Yeah, very unsettling. But now wasn’t the time to dig into it, or try and help Caleb, even if the fallout of this would probably be hell later.

Slipping off into the crowd to find Beau and Fjord was simple enough, even if staying unnoticed wasn’t quite as easy. Molly was flamboyantly Molly, and in a room full of humans, he stuck out like… well, like a vibrant purple Teifling. He tried to keep an eye out for Astrid or Trent, it was a lost cause going unnoticed by random nobles, but he saw neither of them in the crowd.

Fjord was easily found, Molly catching his eye and looking pointedly towards where he’d left Caleb. Fjord grimaced, an odd amount of concern on his face as he immediately headed that direction. Molly sensed there was some story behind that reaction, though tried to stifle his curiosity as he continued his search for Beauregard.

He found her quick enough, though had to wait impatiently as she was in mid conversation with a handful of people. He placed himself in easy view of her, though she’d probably noticed him already, and tapped a claw against his arm as he kept on eye on king Dwendal.

“Hey, what’s up?” Beau asked him not too long later.

Molly looked over at her, lifting an eyebrow though that was all the humor he was capable of currently. “Shows about to start. C’mon.”

Fjord and Caduceus were speaking softly to each other when Beau and Molly returned, Caleb having not moved from where the Bloodhunter had left him. As they all gathered closer around the mage, Molly was the one to ask. “Alright, we’re all here. What’s going on?”

“Percival and Vex’ahlia have been detected, though likely not captured. Astrid would not have been so ill at ease if they were safely detained. I do not believe she suspects me, or any of you.” Caleb explained carefully.

“Has anyone seen Jester? And Yasha and Nott?” Fjord asked, grimacing as there were head shakes all around. “Caleb, can you send one of them a message, give them an update too?”

Caleb gave a jerky nod of assent but hesitated, gaze flickering worriedly to Molly. It took a moment for Molly to get why Caleb was uneasy, then he remembered his parting words to the wizard before heading to get the others and wanted to groan. A closed off Caleb was a trained Caleb and that meant, apparently, taking most everything as an order again. Fuck.

“It’s worth the energy to update them.” Molly agreed, with (again) the knowledge that this was not the time to point out Caleb didn’t need permission from any of them. He swallowed a sigh, glancing over at Beauregard.

The monk was watching Caleb with a tense gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. Molly wasn’t the only one to have noticed Caleb’s new demeanor, nor was he the only one concerned by it.

“I’m not so sure we’ll have time to wait for them.” Caduceus interrupted before Caleb could begin the spell. The Firbolg nodded his head toward the makeshift throne in the center of the party, drawing their attention to where someone in Assembly robes was stepping back from speaking to the king. Dwendal rose when the person stepped back, his guards flanking him as he began to follow the mage through the crowd that parted before them.

“I don’t see Astrid or Ikithon…” Beau muttered, gaze skimming through the room quickly. “Should we give it a sec, then follow him?”

“You can walk and magic at the same time, right?” Molly asked, glancing at Caleb and continuing when the wizard nodded. “Check in with the others then, let them know it’s time, and we can head in that direction. Probably not a good idea to let them get too far ahead of us.”

“Especially when we’re split up like this.” Beau agreed grimly.

Caleb gave a short nod of agreement to the orders, motion smoother and more at ease as he retrieved the necessary components from his pouch. He curled the fine copper wire around his finger as he walked, the other four circling around him as they headed as a slow pace toward where the king was ascending the staircase to the second floor.

“The king is leaving the celebration, we are following. Meet us at the second-floor council chamber above the foyer.” Caleb stated evenly in a low whisper, directing the spell towards Jester.

~~

Jester and the others trailed along as best they could in the path their quarry had taken. Much to Jester’s delighted surprise, Vex was able to use the same spell that she did in order to help them all be sneaky. It was nice having someone share the magic responsibilities and Vex had caste the spell without even apparently thinking about it. Jester was a little impressed.

They didn’t run into anyone on the way, the few times they heard voices or footsteps they ducked out of sight until it had passed by. Their path was headed vaguely in the direction of the party going on, though eventually turned parallel and led up a tight spiral staircase.

Nott took the lead, Yasha behind her, with Jester, Vex’ahlia, and Percival bringing up the rear. Wherever they were, it was definitely off the map of the castle plans. The stairway led into an equally narrow passage. It was dark and dusty, curling at a slight incline upwards. They were all beginning to doubt whether the mage they were hunting had even come this way, when Jester let out a surprised squeak, reaching forward to grab at Yasha in an attempt to quietly get them to stop.

_The king is leaving the celebration, we are following. Meet us at the second-floor council chamber above the foyer._

“You guys, you guys, we have to go back!” Jester whispered urgently, heart leaping in worry. “Caleb just messaged me, Dwendal’s leaving, and-“

Vex stepped forward and placed her hand over Jester’s mouth, muffling the increasing volume of the cleric’s words. “Calm down. We’ll catch up to them. It can’t be much further this way.”

“Better than turning back.” Percival added from behind her.

They were all silent for a tense moment, before coming to a unanimous and silent agreement to push forward. They moved quicker, Nott still in the lead and keeping an eye out for any doorway or exit out of this thin passage. It curved, switching back around and slanting downward after a minute or so travel. Yasha and Vex were the first to hear the voices; a regal tone demanding answers and a quieter voice speaking a reply none of them could make out.

As Jester and Nott picked up on it too, they hurried forward; not wanting to leave their friends hanging if this whole thing had already gotten started. They were close enough to see a thin line of light, signaling a doorway or exit of some sort, when all five of them heard a sharp click. The vague slant of the floor underfoot turned into a sharp incline suddenly, almost dropping out from under them.

They all managed to keep on their feet; landing and skidding as they stumbled forward the last three or four feet to what turned out to be little more than a tapestry covering the exit. The five of them all but tumbled out into the room beyond.

Yasha tripped over Nott, tumbling to the ground as the goblin cursed and threw herself out of the way of the rest of them. Jester was a step behind her, both the cleric and rogue leaping to either side of Yasha’s now prone form. Vex managed to dance her way around the stumbling block, though Percival behind her was too slow to see. He tried to sidestep at the last moment, but the edge of the blade on Yasha’s back caught his boot and sent him flailing to the ground as well.

By the time the group all made it back to their feet and in some sort of order, nearly every eye in the room was on them.

Eodwulf had his arm outstretched toward King Dwendal, the monarch seeming to be frozen in place and looking an odd mix of enraged and afraid. Wulf’s expression was half hidden, as he was the only one not looking their way. Astrid held a look of annoyance, turning to an embarrassed anger when she recognized Percy and Vex.

The Drow looked amused, a hint of a smile curling across what was a previously very bored expression. Nott was able to make out the form of an odd-looking guard standing against a wall. Something about him seemed off, but she didn’t have time to figure it out. Instead, she drew her crossbow, eyes narrowing in on Ikithon.

Astrid was the one to take a step towards them, the annoyance and anger simmering away to be replaced by a smug superiority. “You are quicker than I anticipated.” She stated, eyes flickering between Vex and Percy. “Thought I am curious as to how the two of _you_ came to be here.”

“It is such a pleasure to see you again.” Percy bit out coldly, sliding his pistol from its halter. He held his hand though, for the moment, curious as what the two mages might let slip in the tense standoff. “You left in quite the hurry.”

“Astrid.” Ikithon spoke quietly, words not less sharp for the softness of the volume. “Enough games. This requires precise timing.”

Astrid pressed her lips together, glancing at Ikithon before taking in the sight of the five of them. She stepped back, turning towards the Drow with an expectant look.

He simply smiled at her, tilting his head in mock curiosity. It was strange and something about it had Percy feeling very very badly about this entire thing.

“I made a deal, Elikol.” Astrid spoke, a warning note in her tone as the silence stretched on.

“Yes, and I have help up his end of the bargain so far as it was agreed. Anything more, well…” He trailed off, shrugging and shifting his weight.

Astrid clenched her jaw, eyes skimming first over Yasha, Nott, Jester, Percy, and Vex. Slowly they were shifting stance, preparing for when the tenuous standoff would break. Ikithon was watching her with the same eternally judgmental expectancy. She knew what he’d trained her to do. Knew what she would _have_ to do if she wanted to exceed him, take his place. Then finally to Eodwulf, still focused on the orders she’d given him.

“Then I invoke the pact.” She stated softly, drawing herself up and forcing herself into an air of calm control.

The Drow elf grinned wolfishly. “Finally, I get to have some fun.”

The image of the Drow melted away, morphing and growing in size as it did. It didn’t grow much, though from the back sprouted large black leather wings with splotches of red like drying blood. The smooth features of the Drow grew more defined, more human-like. He was statuesque in build, seeming much more at ease as he shrugged off the cloak from his shoulders. Just how he’d managed fit they stylized armor under the silk material was a mystery.

He smirked at the group of them, gaze slowly shifting from one to the next, before stopping and meeting Yasha’s gaze. He chuckled, turning to the one guard that stood impassively watching. “Emylg, why don’t you convince this fun piece of flesh to entertain us? It’s always fun to play with the divine bloods.”

“Feel free to make a mess.” Astrid interrupted quickly, trying to be subtle about her attempts to look like she were still completely in control of them. She glanced reflexively at Ikithon, as if searching for approval for the reasoning. “These are from Xhorhas, consorting with demons is to be expected.”

Jester gripped the symbol of the Traveler, annoyance surfacing through the mounting unease. Did Astrid not hear the hypocrisy in that statement? She makes a deal with demons, brings them here to help her and Ikithon assassinate the king to take over the empire, and she has the nerve to say _they_ are the bad guys that deal in that stuff?

Belated, Jester wondered if there were enough time to message the others for help. They could really use some right now. And she really hoped that the others were close by because, really, none of them would ever have expected Ikithon to be working with _demons_ of all things. But the old geezer didn’t look surprised in the least, so he had to have known. And Astrid made a deal? That didn’t sound good, and neither had the unhappy sound Percival had made at hearing that.

The guard that Elikol had spoken to slid forward, a smile curling across his face as he seamlessly changed forms. He almost made it look poetic, less jerking and melting like the commanding one had done. The armor dropped away as leathery wings extended, deep red and not nearly as large as the other man’s. this one was bare chested though, a tattoo encircling his neck like a collar of ink. Two horns poked through his forehead, a mess of bloodred curls stopping just above them.

The man’s voice was all silk and smooth as he hummed agreement, spaded tail twisting lazily behind him as he sauntered towards the group.

Yasha’s hand was drifting to the hilt of the blade strapped to her back, and the second wingy guy was watching her do it with a curled smile. His tail flicked behind him like a cat about to pounce, arms crossing across his bare chest as he leaned toward Yasha slightly, looking up into her eyes with a sultry expression. “Why don’t you draw that lovely blade of yours, turn it on your friends?”

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Good, bad, indifferent? 
> 
> Branching out from my usual fandoms of writing.


End file.
